Fracture
by the-platypus-writes
Summary: On a planet considered to be the pinnacle of civilization in the galaxy, an eccentric genius private detective and a former army medic with horrific pasts investigate the death of a student 5 years prior. As they chase the truth further and further down the rabbit hole, tempers flare and tragedies boil to the surface
1. Introduction

A/N: Hello Everyone! Before we get started I would like to say a few words about this fic. This will be my first ever published fic (YAY!). I have been working on it for many years, and this is the 3rd version of it.

This fic is ultimately an experiment. And due to its experimental nature, it doesn't quite read like a normal fanfic. In fact, I've been told that it reads like a novel. It is a blending of several different genres, including sci-fi and mystery. Information and its distortion are huge in this fanfic. No single character, save the narrator, has all the answers. In fact, they are often wrong.

I should also warn that there's a fair amount of blood and death in this fic, including suicide and murder, with more in the later chapters. A good comparison in this regard would be fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood. If you could stomach that, you should be able to stomach this.

Because I'm new, I will not be surprised at all if I make mistakes. This fic deals with a lot of sensitive topics and I'm doing my best to be respectful. Constructive criticism and encouragement are both welcome!

I would also like to thank cowgirlangel95 for betaing for me. She is wonderful

Lastly, I do not own Doctor Who, Sherlock Holmes, or any other fandom mentioned, nor am I making any money off of them. Please do not sue me. I am a good noodle

So, Onward!

* * *

I am not telling you my story for pity or sympathy–for I did in fact get what I deserved–but rather, because trillions of years in the shadows of my punishment have eroded my mind into a shell of what it once was and will soon claim this story as a casualty. The universe deserves the truth. What happened on the planet Alanaka the month of Seline in the year 5007 (December 2051 if you're an earthling) was the result of hundreds of mistakes, failures, and tragedies, an earthquake in the very fabric of history, a breaking point. This is a story about death and change, in which lives were shattered and worlds destroyed. This is about a fracture.

I suppose I should give you, the reader, a little background. According to the legends of today, the history of Ri began billions of years ago, when the Old Gods decided to create the universe. They sung the first stars and galaxies into existence, as well as primordial beings such as their children the New Gods and the mysterious Ethereals that pass through the planes of existence. The universe was perfect and pristine. And lifeless. Exhausted by their labor, the Old Gods passed into a deep sleep, leaving the universe to the New Gods. it was the New Gods who created life, spreading and seeding it throughout the universe. One of these enclaves of life was Alanaka, the Mother World, as it would come to be called by its inhabitants. This world, the fourth from its star, came to be after the collision of three neutron stars created an explosion so powerful that it formed a rift in space-time and created a nebula seeded with a new element: starcrystal. The yellow-white star Numai formed from the nebula on this rift, as well as the other worlds of the Phoenician Nebula.

It was here that the first Ri were said to crawl out of the mud fully formed. But chaos soon abounded. Tribes formed and were in a constant state of warfare. But soon they coalesced into nations. And nations were conquered. Until there were only few left including the domain of the Lords of Archipelaga. In the War to End All Wars, the Arcipelagan Lords conquered the rest of the world in a victory that would prove to be short-lived: The Cataclysm, the twin scourges of the comet that exploded over Pangaea and the plague of Necroma virus, decimated the population and eradicated the Megafauna and most other living creatures. However, this was not before the Achipelagan Lords sent 40 space-arcs to neighboring worlds in the Phoenician Nebula, 29 of which survived.

What would be the thirty worlds of the Phoenician Union developed in isolation from one another, until one day when faster-than-light space travel was discovered. The worlds began to trade and grow with each other. But they did not escape extra-Alanakan attention. The war with the Chula changed everything. In a quick victory with the fastest faster-than-light ships engineered in the Orion Sector yet, the Ri defeated the Chula and united into the Phoenician Union. By the year 5007 of the Age of High Technology, the Phoenician Union dominated the galaxy economically.

Of course history is written by the victors. History is ripped apart and sewn back together with new pieces. Lies are incorporated, and uncomfortable truths stuffed into the back of the closet. In recounting this story-and by extension my story-I have attempted to remain as close to the truth as possible. I have gone through great lengths to accomplish this task which destiny or chance, depending on how you look at it, has given to me.

After much agonizing thought, I have decided to start with the morning of Thursday, Seline 2nd, 5007 when the private detectives Marjorie O'Sullivan and Daniel I. Lee were assigned to investigate the unusual suicide of a college student 5 years before. I have chosen them and this morning over myself and my death in an overcrowded hospital, over the disgrace of the forgotten prince, or the rise of the mad emperor, the hybrid slain in cold blood and the siblings who found him, and the devastation of the Doctor. I chose these two people, a human and a Ri, among the thousands who played a crucial role in the chain of events because they started from what they thought was an objective position. Because they were thrown into the middle of the maelstrom and tried to make sense of it by working backwards. It is through their story that I wish to tackle the greater issues at stake, and what they mean for the future. And so on to the story.


	2. Spark

_**A/N:**_ _I hope that yall liked that first bit! Thank you to Miss Elizabethh for being my first reviewer! You go girl! Anyways I would like to mention a little bit of Ri language, or "Nu" as it is called: the "J" is pronounced like the French J, like in Je suis. Also, you will notice many Ri with names from different Earth cultures. This is done on purpose, especially with younger Ri. The culture absorbed some of these names._

 _Also I would like to thank Miss Elizabethh for becoming a beta. You rock!_

 _Now let's get down to business._

* * *

 **Pyrana, Alanaka, 5007AHT / 2051 AD**

"Goodmorning Greater Pyrana area! Today's gonna be another summer scorcher with a high of 37C and a humidity index well in the 80% range, with severe thunderstorms in the afternoon. Keep indoors and stay hydrated! In other news, the Pyrana Police Department is still searching for a suspect in the 22nd street car bombing and the Jang-Sali metro line bombing. The police are still unsure if the two cases are connected. More on that 30 after the hour. Now on to traf—"

Marjorie clicked off the radio as the hovercar came to a stop. "They're connected," she said, massaging her left shoulder where it was sore. The heat had a tendency to bother it.

"What?" Daniel said, rubbing his eye. He had dozed off on the way over. Many sleepless nights had taken its toll on him.

"The bombings. They're connected,"

Daniel sighed. "And how long have you known this for?" This was exactly like Marjorie to do such a thing.

"Since the second bombing,"

"And you thought it was a good idea not to mention it to the PPD?"

"We aren't investigating the case."

"Gee I wonder why," he said pointedly.

"Because it's not the best way to help them."

"You just made a huge break in the case without even stepping onto the crime scenes! The very least we can do it tell Inspector Jong about this."

Marjorie paused. "He's been calling you. How often?"

"At least 10 times per day."

"You're exaggerating."

"Who cares? It doesn't take away from my point!" He softened, "Marjorie, look at me." She turned to look into his eyes. "People are dying. The bombing investigation is way more important than anything else we could be focusing on now. Also it would pay very well, but that's besides the point."

"Again, we will not be of any use to them," she said sharply.

He sighed. "You're insufferable sometimes, you know that?"

Marjorie ignored that last dig and opened up the hovercar door.

The house that they had driven to was located in one of the wealthier suburbs on the slope of Mona Zymuna. From the driveway, they could see that the rest of the city of Pyrana, the capital of the Phoenician Union, the pinnacle of civilization in the Orion Sector, the city of the future, was bursting at the seams. It was squeezed between the azure waters of the Tarani Bay and the mountains Mona Zymuna, Mona Epaka, and the Mona Pyorra Nature Reserve. The buildings clung to the Northern and Southern Peninsulas. Bridges lined with thousands of hovercars and pedestrian pathways spanned to the nearby bay islands.

The downtown skyline stood in the distance, its hulk-like proportions larger than anything seen on Earth, dwarfing the skylines of New York, Beijing, and Abu Dubai. A multitude of skywalks connected them, and cars flew between them and metros snaked around. But here in the suburbs the homes were much shorter. Tropical greenery carpeted the yards and palms lined the streets. A variety of trees with luscious and colorful fruits grew along the sides and in the back. Swimming pools abounded.

The particular house our private detectives stumbled upon was a two story neo-traditional. The walls were made of white clay and the roof lined with red tile. A vine blossoming with wilting yellow flowers crept up on the side. A salty breeze from the ocean occasionally stirred the hot, wet, oppressive blanket of an atmosphere. It was times like this when Marjorie began to miss Earth, or at least New York, where cooler seasons and a more pleasant atmosphere existed. But such times only lasted for a moment. After all, what use is missing something that you will never have the chance see again?

They reached the front porch and Daniel rang the doorbell.

"It's them!" a muffled female voice called from the inside. A small, wiry woman unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.

Marjorie immediately deduced that the woman appeared to be about 60, as indicated by the gray streaks running through her dark hair, which was pulled into a bun, and the subtle aging around her face. And there was a sadness about her, a sense of loss. She wore a red short-sleeved blouse and a black knee-length skirt with short black heels, gold bangles on her wrists, and golden hoop earrings.

"Hello?" She tentatively spoke.

"Hi. Is this the Young residence?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, yes it is. I'm Rina Young, and this is my husband, Han." She motioned to a small, bookish man with round glasses and short graying hair. He was dressed in khaki pants and a yellow polo shirt. Rina continued, "And you must be Mr. Lee and Ms. O'Sullivan, correct?"

"That's us," Daniel said.

"Great. Come on in." She lead them into the house and immediately into the foyer, and motioned for them to sit on the pristine white fabric couches. Nick-knacks covered the tables and pictures of a previously happy family in their shiny, metallic frames plastered the walls.

"Before we get started, can I get you anything to drink? We have tea, hot or iced, and water," she offered. Such an offer is always expected in a Ri household. It is the polite thing to do; not to offer your guest drinks would be a social faux paux.

"Iced tea would be wonderful, thank you," Marjorie said.

"Thank you. A glass of water sounds good," Daniel said.

While she was pouring drinks, Han began to talk to them. "Rina and I both appreciate that you took the time to come talk to us"

"Well, we specialize in the hard cases. And from what I have deduced, this is a hard case," Marjorie said. "But it won't be for me," she smiled cockily.

"Yes…," Han shifted uncomfortably.

Daniel sat in mortified, awkward silence. Had it not been for the social trappings of his culture and species, Daniel would have facepalmed. He hated it when Marjorie said remarks like that at inopportune times.

Even I, the Watcher in the shadows of the room, felt uncomfortable. Which is quite the accomplishment really.

Rina broke the uncomfortable and overbearing silence: "So what do you know about the case so far?"

"I know that you lost your son. The pictures that have hanging show yourselves and three joyful children until the last one is about 18 or 19 years old. He then disappears from the photographs, which are fewer and far between. This indicates to me that he died rather suddenly and violently."

"Yes," Rina said quietly, swallowing to keep the emotions from welling up inside and bursting forth.

The pain had hardly lessened with time. Han reached over and held her hand. "It's alright dear, it's alright,"

"No," she shakily croaked out. "No it's not." She was doing all she could to fight back the tears.

Daniel leaned forward on the sofa and gently and honestly said, "We're very sorry for your loss. If you don't mind, can you tell us what happened?" He placed his phone on the coffee table to record the conversation.

Han took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes with his right hand. "The autopsy ruled it a suicide," he said. At the Rina formed fists with her hands, her knuckles turning white.

"But you don't believe it," Marjorie said. "Or at least, you believe that there is more to it. Some sort of foul play, I believe?"

"We don't know. But if that is the case, I don't think it was out of the blue. I think someone or something pushed him to do it."

"And what leads you to believe that?"

"Shortly before he died, he was acting strange and paranoid; he claimed that someone was following him. At one point, he mentioned he had to keep something safe."

"Did he say what that was?" Daniel asked.

"No."

"And you want us to find what this thing was?"

"Yes. We are offering you 50,000 Phoens. 20,000 now, and the remaining 30,000 when you find it."

The two private detectives looked at each other to gauge how the other felt about the offer. "We'll take it," Marjorie said, and Daniel nodded in agreement. Little did either of them know just how much it would change their lives.

"Good," Han said.

"The game begins," Marjorie said insensitively. "Did you keep any of his things after he died? Objects we can look through?"

"We have a storage unit in the Thrala district. We haven't visited it in a while though," Mr. Young said. "I can find the code and sent it to you."

"Great. You have my contact information. Please feel free to call me, text me, or email me at any time," Daniel said.

"Thank you both so much," Mrs. Young said with tears in her eyes. And so the two detectives headed away from the house, unaware of the mess that they were about to stumble into.

"We appreciate your commitment," Han said. "Finally, we will get justice for our son. This way to the door."

As the two private detectives walked back to the car, Marjorie whispered to Daniel, "They're hiding something,"

Daniel grunted in response.

"What?" Marjorie said as she got in the car. She recognized that grunt.

Daniel slammed his door shut. So Marjorie asked him, "Why are you upset?"

"You know those things called feelings?"

"Yeah…Why?"

"For a psychic, you're really bad at them."

"Not this fight again," she muttered.

"Yes this fight again. So long as you work with people, you've gotta respect those feelings. People aren't math, people aren't science. This is not a game that you can just play. A real person died."

"But people are part of a system, and their future actions can be predicted and their past actions deduced. I know the system. That's why I'm so good at what I do."

Daniel sighed. "You completely missed the point."

The rest of the hover-car ride was in awkward silence.

The car took our detectives back along the winding roads of the neighborhood to the Zymuna Heights Metro Station. It was a relatively small station, consisting of an outdoors platform with only the Orange line running through it. The outbound way climbed up and around the mountain to the neighborhoods on the far side at the edge of the city. The inbound way lead down the mountain into the heart of the city, past the Presidential Palace and the Supreme Legislature into the Financial District, where billions upon billions of Phoens and stocks were traded each day. Because of the small size of the station and the time of day, our detectives didn't have to fight their way on. They sat near the back of the third car. With the exceptions of a sleeping middle-aged man in the middle and a young woman with a baby towards the front, they were the only ones in the train car.

"Now leaving Zymuna Heights Station. Next stop: Salazar Park," a computerized female voice announced as the train left the station, gliding above the ground on the white railings below it. Houses, streets, and creeks zipped past below them, gradually being replaced with larger and larger buildings multiple layers of flying cars began to coalesce below them. More and more people of various species crowded into the cars. Billboards flashed bright electronic messages, urging citizens to take care of their hearts, buy the newest fashions, visit the far-flung planets of the Phoenician sphere of influence, and everything in between.

Eventually they reached the massive Central Station near the Governmental Plaza. It was a massive building with a couple dozen platforms and elevators. Their particular platform was dozens of stories in the air, with only a thin shield of glass separating it from the powerful winds around it. As the private detectives stepped into the massive crowd, insect-like robots the size of a human hand hopped onto the train, using their metallic antenna to inspect every square centimeter for cracks and loose screws that could spell disaster for the high-speed trains.

They pushed through the crowds to the ground level express elevator. At least 50 people crammed into the large space. At the bottom, they wormed their way onto the Northern Peninsula line, which ran at ground level from downtown to the end of the Northern Peninsula. The people on this train were different than the ones who they saw on the way in. These people were younger, consisted of more non-Ri species, and appeared to be from parts other than the Archipelagan Region. Denim and cotton-like fabrics abounded in comparison to stiff formal suits.

The storage unit was located in the Selfri District on the Northern Peninsula, near the Salmucha Canal. Cool clean water from the mountains flowed into the city from the Siliki River and warm, loam-laden water from the rainforests of the Slakani River Valley flowed into the city. Together they contributed to the complex canal and river system that further squeezed the city in a watery grip. The Salmucha was one of the larger such river-canals and allowed a considerable amount of water-traffic. The two private detectives arrived by metro at the Middle Salmucha Station. It was an area that they were both were familiar with. The stone walls above the boardwalk that ran next to the canal always had some sort of graffiti on them.

"Look at that broken circle," Marjorie pointed out. The strange black circular pattern with a break close to the top would follow them around throughout the ordeal.

But what stood out the most was the odd blue box that stood on the corner of Salmucha Street and Water Street right across the road from the station. It was always there, as if it was waiting for a train that would never come. Occasionally a kid would walk up to it, or a dog bark at it, but generally it just stood there, lonely as ever while the oppressively hot and humid Archipelagan climate peeled and chipped the blue paint and moss and mold grew in the many nooks, crannies, and cracks.

"I'm gonna catch up with you," Marjorie told Daniel.

"Yeah, see you there," he said.

She tentatively walked up to it, stroking the blue wood. She inhaled and went to open the box.

It was locked.

She laid her forehead against the door. The TARDIS allowed her to feel its weakened life. "Why are you here?" she asked. "Are you here to remind me of my sins? Are you haunting me? Why did you come here of all places when you could have gone anywhere else in time or space?"

As usual, it gave no answer.

The storage yard was a block away from the box. A guide robot about the size of a rabbit floated above the ground and led them to the unit they needed. From the outside it was gray, with a sliding orange door that had an activator lock next to it. Daniel took the key and inserted it, wiggling it around to get a hold.

"It's not turning. Sonic screwdriver time," he said to himself

He retrieved the the slender silver tool from the pocket of his overcoat. He pointed the red end at the lock and key. The little machine lit up and whirred. Eventually the lock budged and sent a signal to the door, prompting it to slide upwards. Daniel flipped a switch to turn on the lone lightbulb in the middle of the unit, illuminating the gray walls and brown cardboard boxes with a dull yellow glow.

For a split second he saw me in the corner of his eye before I disappeared into the shadows.

"Must be a lizard-rat, ugh." He despised them with a fiery passion. They were reminiscent of the trenches and fox-holes of his time on Gaios. They were everywhere there. In the mud, in the makeshift mess halls, tents, the latrines. Occasionally they wandered into medic centers. But the worst was when they were inside dead bodies that they ate the guts out of. It was enough to make a civilian grow nauseous. But he had seen far more terrifying and gruesome sights.

"Well this is a lot to filter through," he said, looking at the mountains of boxes.

"Photos," Marjorie appeared and read the black ink scribbled on each of the boxes stacked in the nearest column. She picked the top one up seemingly effortlessly with her left arm and placed it on the ground. "We can take these back to your place or mine and filter through them. See who we can tie to him. People, faces, addresses, documents, information of any sort. We need to see how he fit into his environment. Lets just peruse through the rest, see what's useful, and we can take care of the rest later. On a separate note, have you contacted Ren about the autopsy?"

Yes, we have an appointment to meet with her tomorrow at noon. She will have a batch of fresh Flesh ready to go by then, as well as a toxicology report."

"Was that the earliest she was able to meet?"

"She could meet earlier if we were to do a holo as opposed to Flesh, but Flesh is much easier to work with and gives a more accurate representation, so I would argue that it's worth the wait. We will have our hands full anyways with all the people we need to contact."

"Fair enough. You're the medic here."

They began to open the boxes. Most of them just contained clothing, which had no real importance to the case. However, some interesting objects were found in the pockets.

"He was a gum chewer, mainly for stress. Many wrappers, as well as traces of painkiller, presumably for headaches. Ate chocolate for the same reason." Marjorie said at one point.

"I guess it was the stress that led to his death," Daniel said.

"Or rather, the source of that stress. He was also a slunker," Marjorie said, using the slang name for people who explored the miles upon miles of hidden caves and tunnels that ran underneath the city. "There are stains of black cave dirt all over this jacket. I bet there is more gear in some of the other boxes. I heard it's popular among students."

"Yeah, it was all the rage when I was a student. Huh. The stains are also on many of these jeans," Daniel said, looking through a box of pants. At that moment, he felt something hard, and pulled out a small, slim black book. A small, yellow piece of paper stuck out of it, which he promptly pulled out. He stared at it for a moment, attempting to decipher the meaning. "Look at this sticky note. Do you know what this even means?" he handed Marjorie the paper.

"That's interesting. 'Beware the Avenger,'" she read.

He flipped through the book. Erratic and unkempt notes were scattered throughout it. Pieces of paper and napkins decorated with coffee and tea stains were jam packed into it. "This seems…important"

"Throw that in the box with the photos. We can come back for the rest of this junk later. We can catch a cab and bring these to my place for now."

And so they went off to the Almi District, the site of their apartments.

* * *

 **Later that night, the Young household**

Vruuun. Vruuun. Vruuun. Rina's phone vibrated. 'Number Unavailable,' it read.

"Hello?" she gingerly answered it.

"You did as you were told?" woman's voice spoke.

"Yes." She swallowed. "Luke will get justice, right?"

"He will."

"And the private detectives, will they be safe?"

After a pause, the woman answered, "We can't guarantee that."

"It feels dishonest to not tell them."

"It is the best course of action."

"If you say so."

"We know so."

"Ok."

"Rina, you and Han are being very brave. Your country thanks you for your service."

And with that the phone call was cut off. Rina noticed that the sky was getting darker. A storm was rolling in.


	3. The Search is On

_**A/N:**_ _Welcome back! I would like to let you know that there is reference to suicide in this chapter. Also an autopsy._

 _Anyways, here we go!_

* * *

Plop. Plop. Plop. Three big fat raindrops reverberated against the metal roof of the cab they had acquired to transport boxes. Hulking dark thunderheads illuminated by flashes of bluish-white lightning were blowing in from the East. Marjorie looked out of her window to see the clouds devour part of the Great Ring that stretched across the sky, as if they craved the iridescent colors. By the end of the ride, they had overtaken the sun Numai itself. It reminded her of her childhood back on Earth.

" _The storms will eat the sun, but it will put up a fight and force them to spit it right back out!"_ her dad would tell her and her sister when the summer squalls rolled in. She smiled at the thought of it.

Almi District was located midway along the Northern Peninsula and was much different than downtown, or the neighborhoods on the slope of Mona Zymuna. Here the buildings were a lot smaller, more like those would expect in a city on Earth. Its population was incredibly diverse. There were Ri who had lived their whole lives in Pyrana, or moved from neighboring cities and islands in Archipelaga, or from the Pangaean Continent, Antarctica, or the various other worlds of the Phoenician Union. Other species from the Allied Worlds and beyond crowded into the district and the city as a whole.

In particular, humans, or as they called themselves, "ex-terrestrials", of all cultures made up a sizable segment of the population, many of whom were refugees of the Water Wars and widespread political instability. Little shops and restaurants lined the streets, a smattering of which had Christmas wreaths and decorations in the windows in anticipation of the upcoming holiday. Their apartments 221A and 221B, were on the fuzzy border between many of these areas.

When they arrived, the two private detectives ferried the boxes into the lobby as fast as possible in order to beat the rain. It began to pour just as Daniel carried in the last two boxes. In the short distance between the cab and the lobby he was completely soaked.

"Now all we gotta do is just get these in the elevator," he said, picking up another box.

"More moving. Fun," Marjorie said completely straight-faced.

Eventually they hauled the boxes into the elevator and into the 6th floor hallway. Marjorie placed her finger on the biometric scanner pad, which prompted the door to unlock and allowed them to enter. The inside of the apartment was dingy and the walls were covered with a black-and-white pattern that looked like it was taken from Victorian London. The living room had a bluish carpet with a blue couch and a black armchair surrounding a coffee table. The TV masqueraded as a pane of glass built into the wall on the opposite side away from the couch. Panoramic rain-streaked windows lined the far side of the room. Occasional flashes of lightning lit it amid low rumbles of thunder. Books and techy gizmos were strewn across the living room, with the occasional dirty dish dotting it. A half eaten pastry from the Argentinian bakery across the street sat in a cup on the coffee table.

"I don't have a striped frog-bat in the microwave this time. Or any other former or current living thing."

"That's…good to know, I guess," Daniel said. "Is there any other science in the microwave that I should know about? Or in the refrigerator?"

"I froze some salamanders in the freezer. There's also a jar of eyeballs preserved in formaldehyde in the refrigerator."

"Great," he said sarcastically. He was used to it by now.

They moved the majority of the mess out of the living room and into the kitchen. They began the process of opening the boxes and cataloging the images inside, matching them to people they were able to find via social media. They found close friends through his family, and then acquaintances from there. The result was a massive web of people that Daniel projected as a hologram from his phone into the air. Hundreds of blue dots, each representing one person, were linked to each other and a large central red dot by yellow lines.

"Organize by clusters," he said.

The blue dots immediately rushed into clusters and changed colors to match the others in the clusters to group by who was closest in relation to who.

"Let's start the calls," Marjorie said.

And so they began the long process of calling all of Luke's acquaintances. The vast majority of the conversations went something like this:

"Hello?"

"Uh hello is this Ms. Rynaka?"

"It's Mrs. Yana now. To whom am I speaking?"

"My apologies. My name is Daniel I. Lee, and I'm a private investigator working for the parents of the deceased Luke Young. I would like to ask you a few questions, if you have the time."

"Of course. I don't know how much of a help I would be."

"That's fine. Just answer what you can. Anything helps. How did you know Luke?"

"He was a friend of a friend. My best friend from high school went to college with him. We met about 5 times."

"Were any of those times during the month of Olina in 5002AHT?

"No. I visited once during that month and he was not around. If I remember correctly my friend said that she hadn't seen him for awhile."

"When you visited the campus of the University of Pyrana?"

"Correct. I'm afraid there's not much else I can tell you."

"Thank you for your help." Daniel hung up and yawned. It was 10:00pm and they had been calling people for 6 hours. Starting a case was always the hardest part of the job. But it was a necessary part.

"He drew an incomplete circle on his work? Multiple times? Ok. Thank you for your help Dr. Tiloq." Marjorie finished up her call.

"Wanna finish this in the morning? It's getting kinda late and people are headed to bed soon," Daniel asked.

"Sounds like a plan. It'll give me time to think over what I heard today. Anyone tell you anything important?"

"Not much. Just that he stopped talking to people or showing up to things about a month or two before his death. What about you?"

"Same. Although one or two people mentioned that he was drawing broken circles."

"Broken circles?"

"Yes. A thick black circle cut into quadrants, with a small part missing in the upper left quadrant."

"Do you think it means anything?"

"I don't know right now. Maybe it's nothing, maybe it's something. I'll have to think on it."

"Ok. Here, bright and early tomorrow?"

"Yes. 8:30?"

"Great. I'll bring some breakfast."

"Good night."

"Good night!"

Marjorie closed the door behind him. Although she did enjoy Daniel's company, she was happy when he left. Quiet and solitude were rare commodities in modern Pyrana. Although it was never completely quiet for her. Psychic noise–stray thoughts and emotions–constantly emanated from everyone around her. The only time it was ever quiet was when she was high. And well, that had not been for almost a year, thank goodness. She had trained herself to block out the noise, but it was still there in the background.

She put on a pair of clean, gray yoga pants and a black tank top. Normal sleeping garb for that time, really. But there was something unusual about this: her left arm. It was cold, bare metal. Yet the design itself was elegant; the metal mimicked the bone, joint, and muscle structure of the living arm, and had no wires jutting out or exposed whirring parts like in the old sci-fi movies that her dad and she used to watch when she was younger. She lifted the metal hand up to study it. The palm and fingertips were covered with white plasticine padding filled with thousands of tiny sensors. Near the top of the arm the metal disappeared into the shoulder. Scarred tissue surrounded it. She felt a slight burning sensation in the arm today, as well as an ache in her stump, probably from the low pressure system moving through that afternoon. She turned off the light and crawled into bed. On this particular day, she thought back to when she was first given the option of the robotic arm.

* * *

It had been exactly 1 year, 5 months, 6 days, and 13 hours since Marjorie lost her arm, 11 months, 8 days, and 10 hours since she left Earth, and 8 months, 8 days, and 8 hours since she began the therapy to regrow her arm. The Ri were very well known for their knowledge of biotechnology. It was one of the key advances of Ri civilization, along with starship engineering and Alanaforming/geoengineering. Unfortunately, it wasn't foolproof.

She was sitting on the frigid examination table as Dr. Tanoqa, her specialist, examined the exposed stump. She was a petite woman, of Antarctican descent who grew up on Aranaq in the Outer Worlds and came to Pyrana to pursue a degree in regenerative medicine. She was approximately 59 years old, had three adult children, and enjoyed gardening when she wasn't working. All of this Marjorie was able to deduce when they met several months ago.

"I'm sorry, but your body still isn't responding to the therapy," Dr. Tanoqa told her.

"We've tried everything, but the cells just won't rewind into stem cells. Even when the rewinding is done in the lab and the cells are implanted, they won't take hold and grow. I know that this is hard to hear, but we may have to consider other options."

Marjorie swallowed and looked back down at the exposed stump. She knew that the doctor's heart was in the right place and that it was hard for her to give up on this case. "Why?" she asked.

"We don't know. It's not a species thing. Many humans have been successfully treated with our methods. Unfortunately, limbs are tricky to regrow. Why it doesn't work occasionally is a mystery."

"What options are out there?"

"Cybernetics mainly. I will need to refer you to a cybernetics specialist that can cover more options, set up any possible surgeries, and calibrate the arm. Are you ok with this?"

"Yes."

"Again, I'm really sorry about this."

Marjorie just sat in stone cold silence.

* * *

It was one of those nights that Daniel had a hard time sleeping. As far back as he could remember, around the time of The Accident, he never slept well. But after he was shot in the Gaios Operation about a year and a half ago, sleep eluded him further. Nightmares of the war and far off places haunted him. For the most part, such dreams had tapered off over time after meeting Marjorie and becoming a private detective. However, the grew in frequency and intensity recently.

Now, I must tell you that there were three types of conflicts that the Phoenician Union became involved in in its thousand-year history: The first is an all-out space war with an equally advanced civilization, usually the Chula. These were the Border wars, and were fought over the rich worlds of the outer Phoenician Nebula, and were typically the longest and bloodiest. They rarely reached beyond the Border Worlds, worlds that were being terraformed and settled by colonists from the 30 original worlds. A notable exception to this was the first Chula-Ri war, in which the 30 worlds successfully came together to defend Alanaka against the Chula armada, which only expected to deal with one planet. The entire fleet was destroyed and the combined forces of the 30 worlds were able to fly right into the Chula homeworld for "negotiations." It was there that the charter for the Phoenician Union was drawn up, an embarrassment that the Chula never forgave the Ri for. These happened every century or two. It had been 50 years since the last one.

The second type was a defensive war against the warlike, nomadic alien species, like the Sycorax, that swept through the area every now and then. Such species were common in this previously fragmented part of the galaxy and are key to the rising influence of the Phoenician Union in the Orion Sector and the galaxy as a whole. Many Allied Worlds rely on the Union for defense against the roving invaders in exchange for preferential diplomatic and economic relationships.

The third type of conflict was policing the pirates and bandits, known colloquially as "Vandals" that hid on the fringes of the Border World space. Typically these were small operations in which nomadic ships would be seized and the Vandals arrested. The Gaios Operation was an intense version of this. So much so that is was nicknamed the Gaios Mess by the soldiers sent to fight in it.

It began when the Union Fleet noticed the disappearance of many trading ships along the Raxa route without a trace. No emergency signals were given, no ships found, etc. So the fleet sent a ship to investigate. What they found was the largest Vandal colony found in the history of the union: thousands of them had banded together in a network of settlements on a planet they named Gaios, which served as a base of operations. The result was a complete mess in which the Fleet chased their spaceships and the Army hunted them planetside for two years until the last and largest settlements were nuked into oblivion from orbit.

It was here that Daniel served as a medic for about 7 months after graduating with a pre-medical degree from the University of Pyrana. The original goal was to serve for three years and then go on to medical school. This fell to pieces when he was shot before his tour was over and sent back to the Central World Rakana to recover at the military hospital. 5 months later he returned to Alanaka and soon met Marjorie and began solving cases while intending to eventually apply to medical school. Emphasis on the eventually. It had been a year and a half and he still hadn't applied.

The particular dream that he had that night was a common one. He was on one of the massive plains the covered Gaios between the patchy shallow seas and vast deserts. The wind rippled the sea of grass in waves, as he walked between the two hills ahead of him, cautious of whatever may be ahead. The mech suit was set to camouflage, with the exception of the mauve medic armband at his elbow. He carried his laser-rifle in his hands, as sweat beaded on his brow and he swallowed in fearful anticipation of what was to happen. And then the shots began, and this time he ran, as fast as he could until he tripped.

When he stood back up, the mech suit was gone and he was shivering in a violent snowstorm. There was a passage in the ahead that he ran to take shelter in. The passage gave way to a warm and peaceful oasis, with a glowing pool of blue water with lily pads and other plants floating in the center. For a moment there was relief; he was safe and warm. But then he saw _IT_. _IT_ was facing away from him, seemingly peaceful. But he knew better. _IT_ was angry.

He sprinted back out into the snow and kept running for what seemed like hours, but IT was still behind him. Finally he collapsed in the snow.

Daniel sat up quickly and gasped for air before realizing that he was safe in his bed in his condo.

The dream was always so terrifying, yet so puzzling. " _What was IT? Why am I so terrified of IT? Why can I never remember what IT looks like?_ " he thought to himself. It didn't make any sense. And why ice? Having grown up in the lowlands of Archipelaga, Daniel had never been to a place with that much ice in his entire life. He pondered this until his phone alerted him to get up.

The condo had a nice kitchen, a bath, a living room, and two bedrooms, one of which Daniel had converted to an office. He owned it since his family died in The Accident 8 years before and rented it out to various tenants while at school and in the army.

After going through his normal morning routine, he chose a generic business outfit for the day. Black pants, black shoes, white shirt, red tie, topped off with a long gray coat and a black hat. To the unfamiliar observer, such garb would seem excessive for a tropical climate; yet it keeps the wearer cooler by wicking away moisture and blocking the sun Numai's rays.

He left the condo, closing the door behind him and locking it.

"Where are you going Mr. Lee?"" a soft voice said from behind him. A sleepy school-aged girl poked her head out of the door across from him and catty-corner from Marjorie's.

"I have work today Stella. Do you have school later?"

"Yes," she sighed. "But I don't want to go to school, I wanna stay home and go on Numaila break already!" she exclaimed exasperatedly, referring to the New Year's Sun Festival that was drawing closer and closer. "But mama says I have to go, and I have a quiz today. Don't tell ANYONE," she whispered, "but I'm scared about the quiz"

"Quiz on what?"

"The Worlds."

"Which Worlds?"

"All THIRTY of them."

"Do you know the Central Worlds?"

"Alanaka, and Zaraka, and Rakaka and Orakana and Erana, Lorakana, and Kanaka."

"See, that's not so bad. How many of the Middle Worlds do you know?"

"I know Corba, and Arba, Eutheon, Sorba and Aranaq and Atheon, and ALL the Moons of Iris. And from the Outer Worlds, I know Torr and Hantang, and Tarroq, Miran, and Dedalion."

"You're halfway there!" he smiled. "You just need to learn the rest of the Middle Worlds and the Outer Worlds. Instead of trying to learn all the worlds at once, try and learn them in lists. It'll be easier. Now go and get ready for school before your mom gets worried about you."

"Ok. High five?"

"High five."

Stella flashed a grin and ran back in the condo. That kid could brighten anyone's day.

He took the elevator from the 6th floor to the ground and walked out into the streets of the Almi district. People were rushing towards the metro to go to their offices. He headed toward the metro, stopping at a coffee shop to pick up some breakfast.

The line was always long at this time of morning, snaking around the shop and threatening to burst from the inside as people crammed in to get their early morning dose of caffeine. A TV buzzed in the corner.

"The decision as to who will host the 304th Antigravity Olympics will come out soon. Many cities in the Phoenician Union are being considered, the most prominent of which is the city-state of Oma. The King of Oma is expected to give a speech if the city is chosen, as will President of the Union Alexandra Jhen. In other news, the United Nations of Earth continues to debate whether or not to officially become and Allied World and accept aid to combat the Water Wars. Opponents cite a concern for national and planetary independence."

"When will they ever learn that independent nations are a terrible idea?" a woman ahead of him asked her friend.

"The humans never had a true Global War, or a Cataclysm. Their World Wars didn't even come close in severity. I think it will either take that, or they will gradually learn from us," she said.

"I certainly hope for their sake it's the latter. Billions of deaths are not worth it. And they have nukes so the damage will last longer"

"I'm fairly sure that the Union would intervene if it ever came to that."

Eventually, he reached the cashier. "Hello, how may I help you today?" she asked in a perky English accent.

"Two medium coffees and two slices of the bluefruit pie."

"For whom?"

"Uh Daniel, please."

"Ok." She wrote his name on the cups. "That will be 15.93 Phoens."

He handed her his credit card. "Here's your receipt. Have a nice day Daniel."

"Thank you, uh, Clara," he read her name tag, and then briskly walked to the pick up line. After getting his order, he rushed back to his apartment and onto the next portion of the day.

By some miracle Daniel was able to balance the pie and the two coffee cups from the coffee shop against the flow of foot traffic back to Marjorie's apartment. He came to the 6th floor and knocked. The door opened by itself so he stepped inside and was greeted by a steak knife flying right in front of his face and implanting itself in the wall.

He turned to Marjorie. "Why?"

"Bored!" She picked up another one.

"Wait let me get out of the way first!"

She threw another when it was all clear, and then got up to grab plates and forks.

"I swear you're going to fracking kill or seriously injure me someday," he said when she got back.

"Nah. Perhaps a few minor injuries," she joked.

They sat at a small wooden table just outside the kitchen. Marjorie cut off a piece of her slice with her fork and chewed it slowly. The flavor was very different from anything she ever encountered on Earth. The closest she could describe it is like orange, cherry, and raspberry swirled together with bittersweet overtones.

So what do you think is gonna happen with the UN?" Daniel asked between bites. "Do you think they'll become an Allied World?"

"As the situation becomes more desperate they probably will. As to whether it will happen soon, probably not."

"Do you think that they should?"

"I couldn't care less what they do so long as it doesn't affect me. What do you think?"

"If they know what's good for them they will accept. Our geoengineers could stabilize the climate, stabilize sea levels, and increase food production, and the like."

It was a typical Ri response. Having lived and worked with them for several years, Marjorie had come to expect this. As an outsider, she had a unique perspective into the minds and lives of these aliens. From the near-pathological fear of division and nations to the view that they were leading the charge into the future she saw nearly everything about themselves that they failed to see. Ri were an intriguing species to her.

Marjorie then picked up her coffee to take a sip when she noticed the writing on the side. "Daniel, with a smiley face," she read.

"Yeah, the barista was really friendly today," he said, embarrassed.

"She's in love with a man with a metal arm from the mid 20th century. You can tell from the way she dotted the I."

"You're making that up."

"Yes I am, but who knows for sure. There are many odd things out there."

"True."

"So more nightmares last night?"

"Yeah. Did you listen to them again?"

"I knew you were in distress, though I didn't read your thoughts. However, that combined with the fact that you have bags under your eyes led me to deduce that you had nightmares."

"Yeah, yeah I did."

She began to go to ask what happened and he cut her off, saying, "And I don't want to talk about it."

She understood.

After breakfast, they spent the majority of the morning calling more and more people. Until finally they found someone who could help them.

"Hello?"

"This is David Hanto, correct?"

"Yes. And who might this be?"

"Marjorie O'Sullivan, Private Investigator. I have been hired by the parents of the late Luke Young to find what factored into his death. Would you be willing to answer some questions?"

"Of course! Luke was a good friend of mine. It's probably best if we meet somewhere to discuss it."

"Wherever works for you is what works for us."

"Do you think you could meet me tonight at my condo?"

"What's the address and what time?"

"34589 South Peninsula Avenue, Ryxla District, Condo 12-3. 7:00 is the best time for me."

"Wonderful. We'll see you then." They hung up.

"We have an appointment," she said. But first, they had to go to the morgue.

The two PIs stepped into the bright Archipelagan sunlight. The heat was unbearable. Of course the heat was almost always unbearable in Pyrana. There was perhaps a month or two out of the year when it was actually pleasant, and then it was usually raining all the time. In fact is was one of those rainy days a year and a half ago when Marjorie practically dragged Daniel over here 2 days after they met.

The Central Morgue was located in the Political District, the hub of politics in the Phoenician Union. It was on the western edge on the 67th-72nd floors of the same building that held many of the Utilities offices, right next to the police department. They took the elevator up and met Ren on the 67th floor. She was dressed in her trademark green sweater with black pants, blue converse, and a lab coat. Her black hair was cut short and her green eyes stood out.

"You are not going to believe this," she said as she shoved a tablet into Daniel's arms.

"Read over the original reports, and then read over mine as we head over to the Flesh room."

"You did an autopsy yourself?" Marjorie asked as the trio walked briskly through the facility.

"Yeah. Something seemed off so I decided to go over it again with the Flesh model."

"And?"

"Cause of death is still overdose on Serapin, but there's some other interesting stuff. Now tell me, do you two have any plans for New Years?"

"Not yet," Daniel said, halfway paying attention.

Marjorie shook her head. "You?"

"My mom and my grandma are visiting from Arama, near Oma."

"The grandma that thinks she's a time traveler?"

"Yeah that one. She's gone a little bit off the deep end as she's aged. But we still love her."

"Is this the same one that hates me?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I shouldn't have brought her to the lab that day. She still won't tell me why she got so angry with you. I think she thought you were someone else and just started yelling at you before she realized she never met you before. Hopefully that won't happen again."

Finally they reached the Flesh room. Bright Fluorescent lights lit it and a bubbling vat of milky white flesh sat in the middle. The programmable organic matter was one of the greatest technological advances of Ri civilization.

"Here, put these on," Ren passed them both white lab coats. After putting his on Daniel placed the tablet and his phone on recording mode on a floating table next to the vat and pulled on blue latex gloves.

Rin went to the computer and with a few keystrokes, cause the Flesh to begin to take shape. The milky white substance drained, leaving what looked like a corpse in a gown, with all the necessary cuts and stitching.

"Ok, lets take a look," Daniel said. "The deceased, Luke Young, is male, Ri, Py'ri race. He has black hair, pale skin. Height is approximately 5'10", weight 155lbs." He motioned for the Flesh to pull back, revealing a perfect model of the double hearts.

"Given the toxicology reports and the characteristic extensive damage to the muscles of the left lateral heart and right lateral heart, cause of death can be ruled Serapin poisoning. The levels in the report and the damage are consistent with the amount contained in a bottle of 100 50mg tablets. There is also other damage not associated with the poisoning in other parts of the body."

He picked up the left hand of the model. "Bruising is present near the joints of the left hand. It appears to be a week old at time of death, and pretty severe. There is relatively recent erosion in the MCP joints and DIP joints on the fingers, as if the phalanges of the fingers were forcibly dislocated and then forced back together."

"Torture," Marjorie said.

"The brain appears to have sustained multiple mild concussions, the right tibia in the leg shows evidence of regrowth in the months before death, indicating broken leg, and there are other large bruises on the body."

"Only the broken leg was reported, when he was treated at the emergency room 1 month before death," Marjorie said. "He didn't report the others because he was hiding something from the authorities and whoever was torturing him."

"What do you think it was? Drugs or drug trading? Genetic information, exotic animals, some sort of contraband?"

"I don't know, but whatever it was, be it an object or information, it was most likely what he died for. Think about it. If you want to hide something, and hide it permanently, you're gonna want to destroy any evidence of its whereabouts if its an object, and any copies if its information. He killed himself because he either knew something someone else wanted to know or knew where something was that someone else wanted to know."

"Just what would be so important to give up your life for? Or to torture someone for?"

"I suppose we'll just have to figure it out." She turned to Ren. "That'll be it. It was a pleasure as always."

"No problem," she said cheerfully.

"Ren, please tell me the original medical examiner was fired because that was one of the sloppiest autopsy reports I have ever read," Daniel said.

"That's another strange thing. It was a federal examiner that did the autopsy."

"The plot takes an interesting twist," Marjorie said.

"Anyways, thank you Ren. We look forward to seeing you in the future," Daniel said.

"No problem. It's nice to have company. As you can imagine, the dead don't really talk all that much. Take care, both of you, and stay safe," she showed them the door.

The two detectives headed to the Bad Wolf Pub in a neighboring district for a quick dinner before braving the traffic to the Southern Peninsula. In an alleyway next to it, Marjorie noticed the broken circle spray painted in black.

"It's the same broken circle Luke drew," she said.

"Do you think it means anything?" Daniel asked.

"Yes, but I don't know what." Clouds were beginning to gather, so they hurried into the pub before one of Pyrana's famed storms blew in.


	4. A New Player Emerges

_**A/N:**_ _So just to clarify Daniel is Ri. To clarify, Ri is the species, and the Phoenician Union is the interstellar political entity that most Ri belong to and is comprised of mostly Ri, but has other species living in it as well. Also Py'ri is interchangeble with Archipelagan, and Gai'ri is interchangable with Pangaean. The former is more of a race, the latter is a geographical location. The culture does absorb names from other cultures, hence why there's a Ri named Daniel.  
_

 _On another note, from here on out there will probably be more time between updates because I have more to edit. My goal is to have one chapter a week out, but who knows if that will happen lol._

 _Anyways, on to the story!_

* * *

To get to the metro station nearest to the Central Morgue, our two private detectives crossed the Phoenix Plaza. A massive statue of the plaza's namesake–and the symbol of the Phoenician Union–dominated the middle of it. The red-feathered wings with streaks of orange and yellow reached towards the sky, and the black beak open upwards with the massive black claws gripping the pedestal of the statue. The motto "United We Rise" was carved into the pedestal. The white and red presidential palace stood on the side opposite from the metro station, surrounded by floating security bots and a smart fence.

The Southern Peninsula was wealthier than its northern counterpart. More affluent citizens lived in taller buildings with garden roofs and pools. Large hotels were built along the southern beach, serving as a popular destination spot for people across the galaxy. The city lights began to illuminate the streets as the last rays of twilight disappeared. The clouds from the storm before had dissipated, leaving a clear night. The moon hung over the ocean and Alanaka's ring stretched across the sky.

They reached the condo and knocked on the door. A tall man with neatly combed hair and a suit, most likely just arrived home from work, answered the door.

"Hello! You must be Marjorie."

"Yes. And this is my associate Daniel I. Lee. I presume you're David Hanto."

"I am. Come on in."

A thin hallway led to the living room. It was painted light green with dark brown fabric couches and a TV over a faux fireplace. Large ebony-like bookshelves stood on either side, filled with everything from a deep space atlas and an Alanaka atlas to history books and computer books. Novels, both contemporary and classic, were placed at the top. On of the walls next to it was a panoramic window peering over the city and the bay.

The lights of the Northern Peninsula were visible in the distance, as were those of several of the bay islands. The Izu Island Interregional Airport and the Jhan Island Spaceport were among these. Airplanes and spaceships were constantly taking off and landing, carrying passengers to destinations from other parts of the world to the far edges of the galaxy.

"Beautiful Friday night," David mentioned. "The storms blew over and it's not raining for once. It's bound to be crowded out there."

"Yeah. The ring looks brighter and more colorful than usual," Daniel said.

"Yes. My grandfather always said that the Ethereal spirits put it up there before they left. It's a nice story."

"Yeah. But it's a story nonetheless."

"It's just fragments of a comet that broke up from the planet's gravity and initiated the Cataclysm," Marjorie said as she investigated the bookshelf. She was attempting to learn as much as possible about him. "Speaking of the Cataclysm, this is a fine copy of the Epic of Giri. Fine literature, one of the best works to come out of the Ri diaspora. A story of survival after all was lost. Where did you get this from?"

"My grandma gave it to me. She would always read stories from it to my sisters and me. She would always tell us how Giri led his village from the burning forests across ash-caked plains to the desert to restart Pangaean society. About how they survived bouts of the Necroma virus, the burning desert sun, starvation, and roving bands of bandits."

"Interesting," she replied. "Quite interesting." She felt that he was hiding something.

"Anyways, would you like some tea? I have iraberry, red armako, jasmine, and some more exotic earl grey."

"I'll just have water if that's ok," Daniel said.

"Earl grey with honey," Marjorie said.

As David left the room she motioned to Daniel with her eyes to follow him. Daniel nodded and went into the kitchen to continue the conversation.

Marjorie turned her attention back to the bookshelf. She noticed a small flash-drive slid between the epic and a navigation systems book. While Daniel and David talked more, she turned her attention to this unusual situation. She deduced that the placement was clearly deliberate. The rest of the books were in pristine condition, yet these two were very well used. In fact, there was a deliberate rip in the cover of the navigation systems book. She tuned back into their conversation briefly.

"Most Pangaean grandparents tell stories like that," David said, facing away from her "Don't Archipelagan grandparents do the same?"

"From what I've heard, yes," Daniel said.

"And yours?"

He shook his head. "I never knew mine. They died several years ago."

"What about your other family?"

"I don't really have any family. Except for maybe a cousin or two that went to the Border Worlds, but I haven't talked to them in years." After a few seconds of awkward silence, he said, "There was a train accident."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Marjorie turned her attention back to the flash drive. If David wanted to tell them about the flash drive in a direct manner, he would have. But he was being indirect. It was only logical to assume that he wanted her to take it. So she slipped it into the pocket of her black jacket. But then that leaves the question of why he would be indirect instead of telling them in the first place. Maybe he would say something when they break with the obligatory formalities and start talking.

When they came back into the room, they all took a seat, Daniel and Marjorie on the sofa and David on a chair opposite them. She then shifted her attention to a decoration on the wall opposite of the window. "This is exceptional craftsmanship. A traditional Pangaean wheel made of dark falko wood, with a well-angled square hole in the middle. The green paint in the carved grooves was applied very well. Where did you come across this?"

"The Sunama Market actually. I happened to see it in an artist's stall after I first moved in and I thought it would look nice."

"It's amazing what you can find there," Daniel said. He then put his phone on the table to start recording. "So what exactly do you do for a living?" he asked while Marjorie observed. It was a common tactic of theirs.

"I'm a software engineer for Quanta Starship Corp. I work mainly on the navigation systems. Many claim that it's the quality starcrystal processing techniques, or the design of the hyperspace field generator that set Phoenician starships above the competition, but in actuality it's the software. The programs are able to chart the fastest course and avoid the most stars, performing the necessary calculations in nanoseconds."

"So it has a virtual 3D map of all the hyperspace channels, stars, planets, and other objects in the galaxy?"

"More or less, although I can't go into terribly much detail for corporate rules and Union security issues." David then shifted uncomfortably.

Marjorie knew he was afraid.

"Was Luke acting any differently around the time of his death?" Daniel asked.

"Very much so. He stopped meeting up with everyone for lunch, stopped going to parties, and stopped going to class as often. His grades dropped dramatically. We were going to have an intervention, but it was too late."

"Was there any particular event that changed him, or was it gradual?" Marjorie asked.

"Gradual, I would say. Over a period of a month or two."

"When did you start noticing something was wrong?"

"About 8 weeks before his death he was spending a lot of time at the libraries. I asked him why and he said that he found something strange underground that he was trying to understand."

"Did he tell you what it was?"

"No. He said it was probably nothing."

"Was there anyone who may have been with him?" Daniel asked.

"He said he was alone, but he did often go underground with other people."

"Like who?"

"Well there was his girlfriend, Kita."

"Naoka Kita?"

"Yes, but she always went by Kita."

"Were they together around the time of his death?"

"No. They broke up about a month before. She ended the relationship."

"Do you know what caused it?"

"I'm not completely sure, but I have a feeling his erratic behavior contributed to it. She was really upset afterwards though. We all were."

"Interesting," Marjorie said. "On a separate note, did anyone ever try to hurt him? Or show a desire to hurt him?"

"No, why?"

She took a sip of her tea and leaned forward, "Luke's parents believe that there is more to his death than meets the eye. We have evidence to support that."

"What kind of evidence?" He leaned forward, clasping his hands together in nervousness.

"Bodily injury. We believe that someone was trying to hurt him," Marjorie said. "But we don't know why. Can you think of any reason why anyone would want to?"

"Not that I know of. Although Kita's ex-boyfriend wasn't too happy about it, but I don't think he would try and hurt Luke."

"What's his name?"

"Sean Na'ida."

"Wonderful," she said as Daniel wrote the name down. "Now is there anything else you would like to tell us?" While David thought she closed her eyes, trying to get a sense of his emotional state. It was pretty clear: Fear. A pleading fear. And a desperate hope that she took the flash drive.

"I can't really think of anything," he said.

"Then that's all we need to know," Marjorie said. "Thank you."

David showed them the door and then went into the bedroom, opened the wooden dresser drawer, and pulled out a clunky disposable archaic nokia flip phone that had been modified to transmit an encrypted proton signal. He dialed 32-784-263-3 and pressed call, holding his breath as it rang 4 times. Finally the person on the other line picked up.

"You're all completely and utterly insane," he said.

The other person said nothing and just breathed.

"I know you killed Luke. This has your fingerprints all over it."

"We didn't kill him," it said menacingly.

"Maybe not directly. But as far as I'm concerned you did."

"We couldn't extract the information we needed."

"Right, it's all about the information, and not about the fact that an innocent person was hurting," he said.

"Our people have been hurting for millennia. Justice must be served," the voice hissed.

"Justice is being able to walk openly without looking over our shoulders. Justice is being able to know and speak the truth. Justice is being able to have our home again. Killing innocent people who weren't even born is NOT justice!"

"Sacrifices must be made. Fire can only be fought with fire."

"Lives mean nothing to you."

"You're speaking as if you're a traitor to the cause. You know the consequences. You know what will happen if you go to the government. You know that Sector 6 will lock you away for many years, or send you to the border worlds after stripping your memories and extracting them to use against the cause. Or they might just outright kill you. They won't forgive for what you've already done."

"I'm not afraid of the government. If innocent people are saved from you then so be it. Although it's not the government I plan on going to," David said.

"We will destroy you before you have the chance to destroy our cause. We will get our kingdom back, with or without you."

"The cause will never be dead so long as the truth is out there. There are two private detectives working on this, know for solving baffling crimes. Perhaps they will reveal the truth, and do what you are too zealous to properly do."

And with that he hung up and smashed the phone against the wall, and began to weep bitterly, sliding down the opposite wall and sitting on the floor. David Hanto knew his days were numbered.

The person on the other side of the line, a slim, tall woman pushed the arms of her dress past her elbows and turned, taking off her headset. "Hanto's gone rogue. And he plans on telling O'Sullivan and Lee. He's a traitor to the cause."

"Then end him," a man with icy, gray-green eyes said coolly, concealing the rage that burned within.

"And the detectives?"

"Let the bloodhounds do their job."

The streets of Pyrana were already overflowing with people excited to take advantage of the enchanting evening. A cool salty sea breeze stirred the bright lanterns hanging off roofs and balconies, placed in preparation for the Numaila festivities to come. The glyphs of the old language were silhouetted against them, asking for tidings of good fortune for the upcoming year and saying goodbye to the old. It was the type of night that I missed, that I didn't appreciate enough in the past.

Our detectives walked along the bayside boardwalk on their way to the metro station, alongside the palms and small gardens. Some people were holding bonfires on the beach, while others streamed past them in flowy dresses and fancy shirts, heading to the numerous nightclubs. Various species stood blended into the crowd.

When our private detectives reached the station, they scanned their rider-cards for the S-line train–so named for the S-shaped path it too from downtown and across the peninsulas–and boarded the middle of the train as it stood motionless above the track, the hum of the super-magnets barely audible above the din of the crowds.

Advertisements flashed on the screens above in a desperate attempt to catch the fickle and fleeting attention of the riders. "Healthy hearts are important. See a Phoenician Health Service provider periodically to get both hearts checked regularly," flashed one. Others were geared towards drawing travelers towards them: "Come find yourself at Kyona Island City" and "Disney World: Senki. 'Where dreams come true'" were common. A cacophony of companies advertised with dazzling phrases containing "of the future", or "making the future." Such was appropriate for the trailblazing city of the future.

They passed through the Selfri District, stopping briefly at the Salmucha Station, where had just visited yesterday. Daniel looked out the window, through the open-air station, and across the street to the blue box, standing in the pale moonlight.

"Have you noticed that box before?" he asked Marjorie.

"Of course. I notice everything," she said in her bluntly honest way. After a year and a half of working with her, Daniel was no longer fazed by such comments.

"How long do you think it's been there?"

"I don't know exactly. But I think it's been a very long time since it's moved."

"It's such a strange little thing to be standing on a street corner, gathering dust and mildew."

"Yeah…" Marjorie trailed off and turned away to look out of the window on the other side of the metro train. She had yet to tell Daniel about that part of her dark past.

After reaching Almi, the two detectives stopped at a pub and enjoyed a few drinks for the end of the week. When she returned home, Marjorie inserted the flash drive into her pineapple computer and performed an initial scan. "The device contains a single program. It is compatible with the Lemur operating system," the computer told her.

She clicked on the flashdrive icon to open it up. There was a single item named "sandfish." When she tried to open it a box popped up asking for a 10-digit code. She typed in the date of Hanto's parents' anniversary; these were common among passwords.

"9 more tries," the computer announced. She closed it. The program would have to wait until morning.

The morning light slid through the blinds and white curtains into the room, lighting up the soft light blue walls, reaching across the oak–like desk nearly plastered with newspapers, bills, and trinkets, with a laptop precariously balanced on top, across the carpet, past the bookshelf crammed haphazardly with a miscellany of titles and the open closet bursting at the seams before finally laying to rest near the occupant of the bed.

Marjorie stirred and stretched, reaching over to her phone to check the time: 8:45am, a fairly early time for her to be up on a Saturday. Too early. Something was wrong. Marjorie quietly and carefully got up and walked to her closet, pulling her pistol out of the small box on the top shelf and loading it as silently as possible, turning off the safety. The cold metal fingers of her artificial arm and the cold metal of the gun lightly sandwiched her organic hand. Somebody else was in the apartment.

She silently crept across the hall towards the living room, avoiding the areas she knew creaked under pressure.

"You're up fairly early," the woman in Marjorie's armchair said as she folded up the newspaper and smiled.

"You overrode the lock," Marjorie lowered the gun, turned on the safety, unloaded it, and placed it on the table. "You could've just knocked."

"Yes, I could've. But considering the fact that you never returned any of the messages from mom and I in well over a year, I didn't think that would be received well."

"So you thought taking the expensive and lengthy journey from Earth to Alanaka and breaking into my apartment was a better option? Really Naomi?"

"Well it's certainly the more entertaining one." Naomi O'Sullivan chuckled. She then stood and walked over to Marjorie. "Besides, I get to see my younger sister. It's been far too long since we've been together in the same room, let alone on the same planet. And considering that your birthday is this week I thought it would be a wonderful present to treat you to breakfast."

"Right now?"

"Yup. Better go get ready."

" _This is exactly the kind of thing Naomi would do_ ," Marjorie thought to herself as she quickly got ready. It was the weekend, so she wore a pair of denim jeans with a purple t-shirt, as opposed to her work outfit of black slacks and a blouse. Her usual black jacket and a pair of gold earrings completed the outfit. She pulled back her dark, curly hair into a ponytail.

They took the metro to Cya'i Island, a bay island known for its quaint restaurants and shops. The station on the island was open air and near the docks. Boats ranging from small motorboats to larger yachts bobbed in the crystal clear water.

They ended up eating at a small café on the hill, overlooking the water. The South Peninsula and downtown were both visible in the distance. Large palms stood near the beach and in gardens. Vines with bright red and yellow flowers grew up the white walls of the town's buildings.

They ate a breakfast of fish over black hanta-grain mash with spicy red Pylani sauce drizzled over it and numerous savory herbs mixed in. A side of brightly colored mixed fruit with a variety of textured peels was served as well.

"I've always found that food tells a lot about a place," Naomi said. "The fish and the fruit reflect the tropical island status of the city, and the herbs and sauce reflect traditional cooking methods. But what is most interesting to me is the use of the Hanta grains.

"How so?"

"They're alien to Alanaka, originating on Hantang, the grain world. It is quite likely it was produced in the outer worlds, or one of the allied worlds that the Phoenicians exported it to. In fact, the grain is currently being planted in Sub-Saharan Africa and the American Dust Bowl. It's also grown on the Pangaean continent, where it was imported just prior to unification to replace some of the major food crops that went extinct in the Cataclysm as a form of ecological restoration and diversification of food options. It reflects the trade-based economy of the Union, as well as the post mass extinction status of the planet, which is often forgotten by dazzled visitors."

They sat in silence for a moment when Marjorie asked, "Why are you here Naomi?"

"I already told you: to see you. It's been over four years. Besides your birthday's this week, and Christmas is soon after. Please don't tell me you forgot your birthday."

"The year has two and a half extra weeks and there are no seasons in Pyrana. Keeping track of Earth months is not the easiest thing. Besides, I have other things on my mind."

"You mean the private and consulting detective work?"

"Yes that's exactly what I mean now why are you here Naomi? Given the constraints and difficulties of space travel from Earth it seems very unlikely that you would be able to come on your own accord. Besides, you always have an agenda."

"If you must know I was given the opportunity for a business trip. I thought it would be the perfect time to see you again."

"You're with UNIT aren't you? It seems like a job that fits you."

"You're not supposed to know that," Naomi smiled.

"I know lots of things I'm not supposed to know."

"You don't know everything."

"I know much more than most."

Naomi put down her spoon and straightened. "Marjorie, listen to me. Listen to me because this is very important. You are a very gifted and exceptional person. You are incredibly brilliant and have minor psychic gifts, but you are neither invincible nor infallible. You're human. You can be wrong. Failure to recognize that is and has been you Achilles heel. But that's a conversation for another time. Let's just enjoy a nice breakfast together, as sisters. What do you think Marjorie? Marjorie?"

Marjorie was staring out the window at the plume of thick, black smoke that was billowing up from the South Peninsula skyline. A firehovercraft sped across the water with its siren blaring. A few ambulances followed in its wake. Her phone began to vibrate with a call from Daniel. She picked it up.

"You know what happened?" she said. "Mmm-hmm. Ok. Tell them I'm on my way. My mind may be changed I'm not a hundred percent sure yet. No you didn't convince me. See you there." She hung up and turned to Naomi. "We need to get the check and I need to go."

"I'll come with you," Naomi said.

"Naomi, please, this is my job."

"And you're using it to get out of this. You probably wouldn't go at all if we weren't having this meal. You know you're not the only smart person here. Also this sounds very interesting."

"Ok, if it makes you happy, you can come, but you most likely won't be allowed on the scene."

"Works for me!"

So they headed off.

* * *

 **Several hours earlier**

"Ouch!...Uuggghhhh." Daniel had just woken up and rolled off his couch. He must've gotten up in the middle of the night after a nightmare to watch some TV and just not remembered it. Hence when he rolled over to the other side of the "bed" he actually fell off a couch.

And sure enough, the TV was on. Dramatic sounding music, hushed from low volume, played from the TV and blurred white words hung on the black screen. He sat up to see if he could see what they said.

" _One month after the events depicted here ended a comet exploded over Pangaea."_ It then faded away

" _Drought and famine resulted from shifting weather problems and sunlight. These, and the Necroma virus pandemic, resulted in the collapse of the Imperial civilization and the end of the Last Dynasty one year later."_

" _It is estimated that between 60-70% of all species went extinct. The rate was higher among large megafauna, with an extinction rate of 95-99%."_

" _90-95% of the Ri population was thought to have died in the next two years."_

" _40 colonial light-speed seed ships were dispatched to 40 planets believed to be habitable in the year between the initiation of the cataclysm and the final collapse."_

" _29 of these took hold and flourished, developing in isolation from each other."_

" _Several millennia later, the rediscovery of space travel, this time FLS, and an extra-alankikian threat prompted the colonies to unite."_

" _We are the legacy of The Last Dynasty."_

The credits rolled and showed pictures from all around the Phoenician Union, from the crowded streets of Pyrana to the four suns of Lustra and the Diamond Mountains of Ranaka. He must've turned on the one of _The Last Dynasty_ marathons that was occasionally held late at night on channel 5342. The series was about two centuries old and meant to portray the last monarchs of the region. The way it did so was hilariously bad. The acting was laughable at best and the script ridiculously melodramatic and almost completely historically inaccurate, considering little to no records remained of the era. The only reason the show stood out was its portrayal of the nascent space program and the famous "We are their legacy" ending.

Daniel stood up and turned it off. A massive headache was starting to come on. He couldn't tell if it was due to falling off the couch or lack of adequate sleep. He took an ibuprofen for the headache and splashed water over his face to wake himself up. At exactly 6-feet tall he was a fairly average-looking Ri, sharing the dark hair and pale skin of about 75% of the population, as well as amber-gold eyes which were shared by about 40% of the population. Light stubble was beginning to grow on his face, which was solved by a quick daily morning shave. On days where he did not get much sleep the night before, purple crescents would begin to show up under his eyes. As the incident progressed, they would become much more frequent.

He went into the kitchen to get breakfast. It was the weekend so he had time to make a nice meal. The few remaining eggs and the mixed vegetables he had would make a nice omelet. He beat the eggs and mixed in red Pylana powder and herbs to give it a spice. While those were cooking, he turned on the TV to a news station and then put the vegetables in. The result was a good and peaceful morning breakfast. Or so he thought.

About halfway through his meal the anchor said, "BREAKING NEWS: An explosion in South Peninsula happened just moments ago. First responders are rushing to the scene. There is speculation that this incident is related to the metro and the car bombing earlier this month. We will keep our viewers updated."

"Fantastic." He put down the plate, suddenly not hungry anymore. "Absolutely fantastic." And as if on cue, his phone rang. Sure enough, it was Inspector Jong.

"Daniel speaking," he said.

"Have you seen the news?" the gruff inspector asked.

"Yes. Do you think it's the same person?"

"We don't know. Which is why we need you and Marjorie down here."

"I'll see what I can do. I'll let you know if we can come."

He hung up and then called Marjorie. Hopefully she would be awake and finally agree to look into this. And oddly enough, she did.

"You know what happened?" she said.

"Yeah, you?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Inspector Jong just called and wants us to come take a look at the crime scene to see if it's connected to the other bombings."

"Ok."

"So are we doing it?"

"Tell them I'm on my way."

"Wait, did you just change your mind on something?"

"My mind may be changed I'm not a hundred percent sure yet."

"Did I just convince you of something?"

"No you didn't convince me. Anyways, see you there." She then hung up.

Daniel quickly got ready and left, careful to put his gun in the holster with the safety on. He had a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was very, very wrong.


	5. Shards

_**A/N:**_ _So lots of death in this chapter. Also reference to nuclear war  
_

* * *

Death is painful-a fact that I am intimately aware of. I have not only experienced it myself as I drowned in my own phlegm and blood, but I have watched it for trillions of years. The deaths of the Eleven of the casualties of the most recent bombing in Pyrana were no exception. Eight of them were near instantaneous, yet with a burst of pain, and the others...well, they had more prolonged suffering.

I glided unnoticed among the carnage from shadow to shadow as paramedics worked to save the other twenty-five victims. The sounds of screams and the smell of fresh blood filled the air. I came across one of the body bags, and heard a whisper from within:

"Mother, is that you?"

"No, no. I am not your mother."

"Who are you?"

"I am like you, but I am not going where you are going. Not yet, at least."

"Where am I going?"

I reached out and cradled the little soul to my shadowy chest, "Somewhere without pain. Now come, and I will show you."

It was times like that when I wondered what it would have been like to be a mother. Perhaps it was for the best that I died too early to know, when my mind was mad. So I escorted the little soul to her next stage of being.

* * *

 **Several hours later**

Deputy Inspector Sharon Malone loved her job...most of the time, that is. Knowing that she was preventing criminals from striking again and keeping the public safe was rewarding, especially since she had her daughter five years ago. But then there were the cases that were so horrific that it drained her. The case of the serial bombers of 5007 AHT was one of those cases.

As a 6'1" human with long golden blonde hair tied into a braid, she stood out amongst the Ri also working the case. She wore long black slacks with a black jacket, a yellow blouse, and tall heels that made her more imposing. Her dark blue eyes gave her a piercing stare. She was of Irish-American descent, with her parents having come to Alanaka to escape political purges in New York City. Despite growing up in an alien environment, she followed their legacy and became a cop, clawing her way up the ranks to become a member of one of the most formidable homicide detective teams in Pyrana. She was truly a force to be reckoned with.

She turned back to confer with her boss, Inspector Alonius Jong, about the initial findings when she noticed Daniel talking to him. She narrowed her eyes. This could only mean one thing: that private "detective" O'Sullivan was on her way.

It was at this moment that Marjorie and Naomi arrived on the scene. The Detective-Inspector Alonius Jong was an older man of about 55 years. His dark hair and mustache were going gray and he stood on the shorter side. Next to him was a woman neither Marjorie nor Sharon had never seen before. Aside from a white blouse, she was dressed in mostly black: black skirt, black heels, black stockings, black blazer, and black sunglasses. Her dark brown hair was drawn up in a bun. It was as if she was trying to seem as average and discrete as possible. The only thing that distinguished her was her silver Phoenician Bureau of Investigation badge with the red and black Phoenix sitting on her belt.

"Special Agent Kesuku, this is Consulting Detective Marjorie O'Sullivan. Marjorie, this is Special Agent Kesuku with the PBI."

"Pleased to meet you," the Agent extended her hand. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Nice to meet you as well," Marjorie said. As she shook her hand she noticed the agent's side arm: a 454 R-series laser pistol. But that wasn't the most unusual thing about the agent: Marjorie couldn't get a read on her.

"Agent Kesuku has been assigned to work with us on this case as a liaison from the Union government. She has dealt with similar cases in the past on Aruk and Corba." He then shifted his attention to both Marjorie and Daniel. "On a separate note, I appreciate that the two of you found time to come out this morning on such short notice," Inspector Jong said.

"Actually you called at the perfect time, just as I was finishing breakfast with my sister."

"That would be me," Naomi answered.

"Oh. Well it's nice to meet you, uh—"

"Naomi, Naomi O'Sullivan," she shook his hand.

"Well, you're certainly welcome to assist your sister here."

"Thank you," Naomi said and turned to Daniel. "And you must be Daniel I Lee."

"Yeah, that's me," he said. He never knew Marjorie had a sister.

Sharon stood in cold silence the entire time. The only thing worse than having Marjorie and her sister involved was to have the feds involved.

"Right," Marjorie said. She could not believe that this was happening either. "Well I suppose we should get down to business. What are the facts so far?"

The inspector nodded to Sharon, who threw a holo projector to the ground. It projected a miniature map of the scene. She said, "At 11:32am a bomb exploded underneath a car parked on Thrina Avenue, next to the Southern Peninsula boardwalk. The explosion killed 11 people immediately. 20 more are injured, 5 critically."

"Have you salvaged the bomb? Do you know what type it was?"

"Most of the bomb appears to have been destroyed in the explosion. We think we found a timer, but other than that nothing."

"Do you have any footage of the bomb being planted?"

"So far we haven't found anything suspicious footage-wise. No package or suspicious object was left there. It doesn't appear to have been in the car. We're trying to reconstruct the plate and find the owner."

"Ok. Daniel and I will go see the bombsite now. Alone." Once they were out of earshot, Marjorie whispered to Daniel, "Did you notice it?"

"The gun? Yeah. Only military carries lasers. PBI generally uses glock bullet pistols. Either she's not PBI, or she's been specially issued a laser. Question is, is she government at all?"

"She is government. The badge was official and uniform standard. But whether she is PBI or from another agency is questionable. Especially considering the other unusual detail."

"Which is?"

"She's trained to block psychic readings'"

"You're kidding."

"Nope,"

"That's odd. So you have a sister?" he changed the subject.

"Yeah. She broke into my apartment this morning."

"What? Why?"

"Because she's a control freak. Even from over 100 light years away she still has people watching me. The fact that she knew who you were when I never told her about you confirms it. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she ran a background check on you." She then softened. "At least she is a caring control freak though."

"Are you happy to see her?"

"In a way, yes. It's been too long. But enough about me, you seem on edge today." She stopped waling for a moment. "Why?"

"I'm having an off day. I didn't sleep well last night and I fell off my couch this morning."

"Dreams again?"

"Yeah." He kicked a rock to the side.

"Which ones?"

"I don't remember. I think it was one of the ones where I'm looking for something but can't find it. It wasn't anything terribly disturbing though."

"Well that's good."

"Yeah. But something just feels off. I don't know what though." They continued on their way.

They stopped walking when they finally reached the edge of the blast zone. A ring of black soot surrounded the site at about 50 ft. from the center, with the remains of burnt out cars and shredded metal surrounding it. The café nearest to the blast zone had its windows blown out. The brick was caked with soot. A crater of about 15 feet in diameter and 3 feet in depth stood at the center.

The two PIs jumped down walked to the center. Marjorie crouched and picked up a handful of pulverized concrete, sprinkling it out into the wind. What looked like broken shards of pottery were strewn across the crater, and the surrounding pavement.

Daniel performed a quick scan with his sonic. "Interesting. Relatively high levels of star crystal are in this. Purple star crystal at that, the least stable kind, unlike the green and red starcrystal used in starships. A small quantity could've reacted with oxygen in the air and easily produced this explosion."

"Sounds like an accurate deduction." She began to knock on the ground, further and further away from the crater in circles. More pottery like shards were strewn around it. She took a magnifying glass out of her purse and looked at one closely. "Interesting. Sonic one of those shards."

Daniel took out the silver and red tool with a single gold band towards to bottom. "Clay," he said. "It looks like one side's been melted, but the other left solid. There's a greater signature of purple starcrystal on the melted side."

"Then my theory is correct," she said. "The bomb was made of pottery."

"Pottery?"

"Yes pottery."

They went back to talk to Inspector Jong and made their initial report. "We think that the bomb had purple starcrystal in it, probably two or more separate 'cores,' in addition to a timing device and a clay exterior. If you test the previous bombs it is quite likely that you will find purple starcrystal residue there as well," Daniel said.

"So you're suggesting that a crude bomb made of pottery caused all this destruction?" Sharon asked.

"Crude isn't a good choice of words. Intricate would be better. Or creative. Whoever made this wouldn't have gone through the trouble to do so unless there was a reason. There are much simpler ways to make bombs that are just as deadly," Marjorie said.

"So why would they go through the trouble?" Inspector Jong asked.

"I was hoping that Agent Kesuku could answer that. Did you find any similar bombings offworld? If so, what were their motives?"

"There was a similar rash of bombings on Saraba about 15 years ago, if I remember correctly. There were very few bomb parts found and no one took responsibility for it, just like this one."

"Do you think that we're dealing with an individual or a group?"

"That's hard to say. But there was an uptick in Pangaean nationalist activity at the time. It was right before Gaios started."

"Worth noting. That could very well be a contributing factor. However, almost all bombings are ultimately a message. If this were meant to disseminate a large message to multiple people, someone would've claimed it by now. But they haven't which is an indicator that the message is meant for a small group of people who know exactly who the bomber is."

"And who might that be?"

"I don't know for sure."

"Will you help us find out what is going on?" Inspector Jong asked.

"We cannot help you in this way."

"I'm sure I can convince the mayor, or even the president, to pay you both really well."

"It's not about the money," Marjorie said. We just simply cannot help you in this way. Besides, I'm sure that the PBI would be a better resource in this case. Now we are done here." And with that they walked away from the crime scene.

Daniel asked Naomi, "Can you give us a moment?"

"Yeah, sure," she said and darted into a cafe. She wasn't happy either.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. "What the hell Marjorie?"

"I already know what you're gonna say. I'm not in the mood to be lectured Daniel."

"I don't care," he said. "You know I really thought you had a change of heart and that we were gonna investigate this case. But no, you just wanted to get away from your sister, who you never mentioned before."

"I don't want to talk about this Daniel."

"Fine, neither do I."

Naomi came out and the three of them stood in tense silence. Our two detectives and Naomi had decided that it was best to take a flying robocab as opposed to metro. It would be crowded with people rushing home given recent events.

Daniel turned on the radio to concentrate on something other than Marjorie. The news anchor said, "Coverage of the most recent bombing will continue throughout the day. The police have yet to release a statement as to whether or not this is the work of the so-called Silent Bomber. In other news, the Phoenician Space Fleet is moving the firestar Salazar, along with 20 million soldiers, from the border worlds to the Torr system. The Torr planetary government cited concerns over a small yet vocal nationalist minority in its initial request for increased protection. There is a fear of terrorist activity in the region. Rumors are spreading that the military is going to start drafting again, although a spokeswoman said they were unfounded. On a lighter note, the Face of Boe is going to visit Osai City on Rakana as a token of goodwill and friendship to the Phoenician people and the Ri spec-,"

Daniel turned off the radio. Everything seemed to be falling apart. "So what's the plan?" he asked.

"We need to get the rest of the boxes out of the storage unit," Marjorie said. "But we'll need to drop off Naomi first."

"Just go where you're headed and I'll just take the metro back to the hotel," Naomi said, annoyed that her sister was pushing her away yet again. The rest of the car ride was uneventful and painfully silent.

When they arrived at the Middle Salmucha Station, Marjorie and Naomi got out while Daniel waited in the car.

"You're annoyed," Marjorie said.

"You think? Of course I'm annoyed. The first time I get to see you in years and you push me away. "

"Yes, I'm the one who did the pushing, when it was you who kidnapped me in the middle of the night and threw me into a spaceship without any warning or knowledge of where I was going!"

"You know that I did what I had to do to protect you. Forgive me for thinking that Pyrana was better than prison!" The train pulled up to the station and levitated above the magnetic rail. The doors hissed open and passengers began to stream out. "You would have been made a scapegoat. People were out for blood!" She the leaned in and whispered softly, "And if they found out what you are, experimented on."

"And yet none of this was my choice. You didn't ask me if I wanted to leave everything behind. Now the train is about to leave. Goodbye Naomi."

"So that's how it's gonna be. I will be here for a few more weeks. If you would like to talk, let me know. Goodbye." And with that, off she went. When Marjorie came back to the car, she was surprised to find that Daniel was not in the car.

While they were off saying terse goodbyes, the strange blue box began to ring like a telephone. Without even thinking he opened the door, instructed the car to stay, and walked across the concrete to the corner where it stood. Something about it felt very unusual and unnerving to him.

"DON'T! Don't touch it!" an older woman shouted. All but a strand of her gray hair was pulled back. A yellow apron with "The Corner Café" printed on it overlay her pink blouse and blue jean shorts. The strand of gray hair that was not pulled back seemed to quiver.

"The phone was ringing," Daniel said, confused.

"Yes, it was. All the more reason to stop you."

"Why? It's just a phone booth."

"Oh no it's not JUST a phone booth. It's cursed!"

"What do you mean?"

"Strange things have happened to people who mess with it. People have claimed to talk to their long dead great grandparents, or their future grandchildren. Some have entered it, only to tumble out months or years later as a blithering mess, driven mad from what they have seen or heard."

"So what's causing it?"

"Who in the galaxy knows? Maybe it's a multidimensional alien playing a practical joke, maybe it's one of the Ethereal spirits of old that stayed behind, still furious with the transgressions of Rikind against nature. Either way, stay away from it!"

"It's old," They turned to face Marjorie, who placed a hand on the blue-green mildew-covered wood. "And lonely. And it's slowly dying, like everything else in this universe. It's just sitting around, waiting for entropy. Nothing to be afraid of."

"And who might you be?" the woman asked pointedly.

"Marjorie O'Sullivan, consulting detective. And this is my associate, Daniel I. Lee."

"And how would you know about this, this box?"

"Because we specialize in hunting monsters. And that is no monster. The real monsters are the ones that walk the streets every day without eliciting a single head turn. The real monsters are the people that have done evil and lie to protect themselves."

As they walked away from the conversation to the storage unit, Daniel asked, "Do you remember what you said to me when we decided to work together?"

"It takes a monster to hunt a monster."

"That, but also you told me that we need to trust each other. That goes both ways Marjorie. I trust you. Now do you trust me?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

"Sometimes it is hard to tell."

They made it back to the storage center with a hovercart.

Daniel was the one to break the terse silence, "You know, your sister really does care. She wouldn't be here if she didn't," he said as he loaded yet another box into the hovercart. This was not how he imagined his weekend to go.

"Daniel, I don't want to talk about this."

"Having living family, or even family you can remember is a gift."

"You've said you were happy you couldn't remember your family before."

"I think it might be a good thing I don't have to deal with the pain from having those memories of them before the train accident. Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a memory or two of them I could cherish. Either way, I'm not happy about it."

"To forget or to regret? That is the question."

"Yeah, I guess so," he said.

"I think we've had enough for the day," she said. "Tell you what, let's bring these back and then pick up tomorrow. I want to have a look at his death site in the morning. Sounds good?"

"Yeah."

And with that they left.

* * *

"Hanto is dead sir."

"Excellent. Did you find sandfish?"

"Unfortunately no sir."

"Did you think to ask him before you shot him?"

"No sir. We searched the apartment afterwards. No one knows he's gone yet."

"They'll know shortly when they identify his body in the trunk of his car from the explosion."

He smiled at the man coldly and asked, "Please, pass me your gun." The subordinate held out the gun, his hands visibly shaking and his eyes widened in fear. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

The green-eyed man took the pistol, and turned it over in his hands, observing every detail of it. He said, "Guns are incredibly efficient and easy to handle. Any yahoo off the street can be trained to kill with one. Yet they are crude and barbaric tools, invented and used by our crude and barbaric enemy. It is through necessity that we must resort to them in our struggle for our kingdom. It is a cruel irony that we must sully our hands in pursuit of such a noble cause. Yet the nobility of our cause will cleanse us upon the completion of our task. But for now I'm afraid that we will have to resort to unsavory means for the greater good." The man with the green eyes pointed it at the man and fired. The minion fell to the floor clutching the area above his left heart in a vain attempt to keep from bleeding out as he gasped for air. Within a matter of seconds he was dead.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you," the man with the icy eyes said, "that failure cannot and will not be tolerated! We are running on a deadline. We need to find sandfish and the key as soon as possible. We only have one opportunity to get this right. If we fail, we may never have another chance to restore our home. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir!" a chorus of voices answered him.

"Good. The benefactors will be pleased to hear that we are back on schedule."

* * *

If you were to sit and watch the many parks of Pyrana, you would notice that it was very common for pairs of people to meet and discuss everything from fishing and weather to illegal arms deals and shady business transactions. Today, a woman sat beneath the palm trees and genetically engineered vines of the Tyre Canal Park near the northern-central part of the city. It was one of the smaller, less popular parks so there was less worry of surveillance by the Phoenician authorities.

She was tall, with long black braided hair and green eyes covered by her large and stylish sunglasses. Today she wore a black skirt and a green blouse with short-sleeves in order to appear like a normal working citizen. She adjusted a turquoise-blue scarf to cover the slight shock of pink that edged from underneath the left side of her collar.

Failure to hide the old burn scar, unusual in an age where medical science and biotechnology can erase all, could prove fatal. The light pink cracked leather bag next to her appeared to be a simple fashion statement, but actually carried two curved, brass-colored knives that have tasted the flesh of many enemies.

A man in a dark coat, his face obscured by a scarf and small, round sunglasses approached and sat next to her. For all intents and purposes, it looked like your ordinary corrupt business deal.

"The boss would like to commend you for your work this morning." he said.

"He knows that I am efficient. I always get the job done and leave little trace. They don't even know about the dead programmer yet."

"It's frustrating the feds," he said, his smile obscured.

"As intended. So what is the purpose of this meeting?" she said tersely.

The man handed her a microchip. "Scan it. Now"

She brought it up to her phone and flipped through the files. Almost everything there was to know about Marjorie O'Sullivan and Daniel I. Lee was at her fingertips. "Is he serious? Are these two actually working together?"

"As unlikely as it seems, yes."

"How did this happen?"

"They got on the same elevator a year and a half ago, supposedly by accident."

"I don't buy it. Coincidences don't happen. Not with these two anyways. Are we to kill them?"

"No, not yet. The entire plan hinges on them being alive long enough to find the key. Then, and only then, can we bring them to justice for their crimes."

"Tell the Colonel he's gone out of his mind."

"I will let the _General_ know you think that."

"I don't care what his title is now, I'm being serious. We're dealing with a skilled telepath and an enemy combatant that could recognize us from Gaios. If either of them catches wind of this, we're done. If we dispatch them Jong's detectives and Sector 6 will have no choice but to investigate and lead us to the key. We do not need to risk this operation on two loose cannons."

"Jong's people aren't skilled enough to find it and Sector 6 would immediately destroy it if they find it. Then they would hunt us down like dogs."

"But if the telepath and the soldier find out we're using them, all is lost."

"Then make sure that doesn't happen, Colonel."

She stood up and straightened. "Very well. But tell him this is a foolish mistake."

* * *

The dwarf star Sula cast its orange light upon the silver oceans of grass that covered the surface of Torr near its five isolated seas. The rest of the planet was desert, with a few scant urban areas. In a remote corner of one of the grass seas, one figure was meditating underneath an olive tree, with another stood guard.

"Tell me, what is your name?" The man with the iridescent eyes, currently a pale green, asked the guard assigned to look after him. The boy couldn't have been older than 19.

"Cain, sir."

"Sir, I get so tired of people calling me sir. Sometimes I miss being able to life like a normal Ri, like I did on Saraba, Gaios, and back home. To be able to go about my business without people looking up to me. To be able to be alone by myself without a guard hanging over me the entire time. Alas, destiny had more important business for me. But I would very much prefer being called by name and not by 'sir.'"

"If you don't mind me asking, what is your name?"

"Arzan. My name is Arzan. Some call me the Avenger, but Arzan is just fine. Now Cain, do you remember the first time you saw an alien sky?"

"It was when my family and I moved to Gaios, si—I mean, Arzan."

"And where was home before then?"

"Corba,"

"Under the yellow sky and the red sun Cykos and yellow sun Makas?"

"Yes."

"It's a surreal experience, isn't it? To see the sky in a way that it shouldn't be. Tell me, were your there the day our enemy dropped the atom bombs on Gaios? Did you see the sky turn red as the planet was turned into a radioactive wasteland?"

"Yeah," Cain looked down, staring into the sea of long grass surrounding them. "I escaped on a ship. But I lost my sister to the explosions."

Arzan the Avenger stood up and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Well that's something that we both have in common."

"You lost your sister to the nukes?"

"No." He removed his hand. "A different weapon was used then, one that cannot be used today, either by our enemy or by us. The rules that govern our world have changed too much. And the death toll was much larger on that day of the crimson sky all those years ago. She was all I had left. I lost everything, but the forces that govern the universe let me keep my life so that I might fulfill my purpose. I have to avenge the many dead and return our people to our former kingdom. And then we shall restore the broken circle."


	6. In the Shadows

"WARNING: airlocks disengaging! WARNING: airlocks disengaging! WARNING!" The launch bay's computer system announced in a computerized female voice. Red lights flashed in indication of the imminent launch sequences.

Sayla Song pulled herself into the ship's cockpit and strapped in, upon which the ship's computer immediately sealed it. She started the oxygen flow to her suit and helmet, and began the last launch preps. She had done this dozens of times before, and her hands sped like lightning to the many touchscreens in the cockpit. The sounds from the launch bay continued to filter in. A lizard-like mech bot made a quick last minute inspection while she was prepping.

"Bravo ready for disengagement," the voice of another squadronmate crackled over the comm. A steady chorus followed.

"Nova ready for disengagement," she said.

The squadron leader was the last to speak. "Ready for disengagement in 10, 9, 8, 7…"

The ship sunk into the floor of the main bay, which promptly resealed to create a small airlock. "6, 5, 4," She held the controls and braced. "3, 2, 1."

The floor of the airlock opened up, and for a few seconds all was quiet save for the muffled engines. The green and brown surface of Gaios curved above her, patched with the occasional blue sea. For a moment, she got to recall the peace she always felt in space before she, like millions of others, was drafted into the war.

"Prepare to go atmospheric," squadron commander said over the comm.

The battle, like most, was brutal. The enemy had commandeered several extremely powerful ground lasers. She went down when the weapon decimated her antigrav generator. The back of the ship smoked and burned as it fell away from the battle. When a small town came into view she ejected and parachuted down. She landed about a mile away and noticed that it was burning. Plumes of smoke were rising from the houses and buildings as the tongues of fire licked their wooden sides. In the middle of the main street a convey was strewn about. Hovertanks were grounded, overturned, and blown to bits.

"Hello! Anyone? Anyone?!" she called out in an attempt to find if anyone was still alive.

No one answered back. She found several bodies around, obviously the work of the shadowfox militia, but not a single living person. At least until she reached the opposite edge of the town. She saw a soldier with a mauve medic armband slumped against a boulder, bleeding from his shoulder and his leg, and he was barely conscious.

She rushed towards him and crouched next to him. "Hey, hey stay with me ok? I'm gonna get you out of you out of here, ok?"

"I…I didn't mean…for this to happen," he whispered. "None of this…was supposed…to happen."

"No one did, it's gonna be ok." She noticed a radio laying on the ground near him.

"Air-base 54 this is Corporal Song of the Scyther squadron do you read me?"

"This is Airbase 54, copy."

"Requesting extraction for myself and a seriously injured soldier. We need a medevac pronto."

"Transmit your location and we'll have one out there pronto."

"They're coming. You'll be ok…Lee," she read his tag on his uniform

* * *

The dream began the same way it always did with Daniel was walking along a beach of some long dead isle, the abandoned wooden houses standing like lone sentinels on the shoreline. Palm trees stretched into the sky. The air was permeated with the taste of salt and sun. Further down the beach he heard the sound of children laughing, but as he moved closer they vanished. He followed a path through the undergrowth to a large wooden house.

"Hello?" he called out. "Is anyone there?" Nothing.

He climbed the steps to the front door and knocked. Again, nothing. He entered into a living room with a picture of a family of four over the mantel of a fireplace, including myself when I was mortal. They were dressed so strangely. Suddenly a wave a fear rushed over him. He turned around and saw IT again. The strange thing that haunted his dreams and robbed him of sleep.

"Y-You again. Why are you following me?" he pulled out his gun, shaking. "Why are you haunting me? Why are you taking away my sleep? What are you?" He pulled out his pistol and tried to shoot it, but the bullets would not fire. So he ran down the hallway towards the bedrooms. One of them had a heavy metal door marked by a radiation symbol.

Daniel rushed into the room and slammed the heavy metal door behind him. A central pillar of light was pulsating rapidly in the center of the room. Computers lined the circular walls with their alarms screaming. Chairs and papers were strewn about wildly. The blasts of heat from the pillar of light were becoming more and more intense. Sweat began to bead above his brow. He tried to reopen the door.

"Please!" he cried. "Please let me out!" But it was to no avail. The heat became worse and worse, until everything in the room caught fire, including himself.

Suddenly Daniel gasped for breath and sat up. He was in his room, by himself. There was no pillar of light, no unbearable heat, nothing chasing him. "Just another nightmare." He stood up and stretched, and whipped the sweat from his brow. There was no way he was going back to sleep after that.

He was going to go into the living room to watch tv, but then he remembered the boxes of junk that they had brought to his apartment. He went into the office and started sifting through them. And so he saw the piece of cracked black leather again. He pulled the book out from underneath all the junk around it. He carried the book over to his desk and turned on the light. The pages were filled with doodles and notes, with a hodgepodge of receipts, napkins, and business cards stuck in between.

He turned to a page with a receipt hanging out. "The Water Dragon. 2 kilos of sucra root. 7.91 phoens." He looked closer at the scrawled black ink on the page. "The fishmarket. Leline 21st. Magic."

The fishmarket, which sold much more than just fish, was the largest outdoor market in the entire city. People would come in everything from spaceships to motorboats and attempt to sell everything from expensive jewelry and ancient artifacts to cheap flipflops and bootlegged purses. He checked the fishmarket website and sure enough there was a boat named The Water Dragon registered. The last day it would be in town was tomorrow.

"3:25am. On a case night. Marjorie might still be up."

And sure enough, Marjorie was still awake. She was testing rock samples from the blast site for their physical and chemical properties. Scientific equipment was strewn across her living room, with bubbling chemicals and strange smells. She did this all while attempting to discover the password for sandfish when she received the call from Daniel.

"Hey, I found something. Luke was keeping a journal of some kind. It logged a lot of what he was doing at the time."

"Great, that's a wonderful clue!" she exclaimed.

"Now listen to this: he talked to someone a few weeks before his death at the Fishmarket. The same boat is docked there up until tomorrow. If we go, we can still catch them."

"Sounds like a plan. Meet in the morning and head there before going to find the beach he died at?"

"Yeah."

"See you then."

Marjorie turned back to the computer after hanging up while waiting for the latest reaction to take place. The latest try at the password was to no avail. The screen read: "9 more tries. Hint: the truth at the heart of the matter."

"What could this mean?" she asked. "What truth? Which matter?"

* * *

Mass chaos. Those are the two words that aptly describe the Fishmarket. It was a series of interconnected canals, docks, bridges, and streets, all squeezed together by the water the permeated the land. Boats, spaceships, food trucks, and hovercars were jam packed together.

The sounds of artisan shops, the whirring of mechanical gadgets, the blasts of engines, the hoots and hollers of animals from across the galaxy, the tongues of many languages, and strange melodies from beyond the planet all blended together in an incoherent cacophony. The heat of the sun Numai and the oppressive humidity were brutal.

The Ri had a saying that everything in the universe came to Alanaka at some point or another and found itself in the middle of the Fishmarket. In a way they were right. Traders brought luxuries from the far edges of the galaxy, from coffee and chocolate from Earth to iridescent glassware from the star system of Uratha and jewelry made from various metals.

Our private detectives walked past the different stalls on the way to the Water Dragon. Strange lemur-like creatures flew between the roofs and chattered away, swooping down to snatch food from fruit stands and the hands of bystanders, like the pigeons of Earth. One stall had various brains and creatures floating in jars, another had plants from across the galaxy.

Marjorie stopped at one for a moment. This one had various blue linens with designs of the moon and furs on the ground, characteristic of the Antarctican culture. Various pieces of art with shades of blue and purple hung on the walls. But what stood out to her was a sculpture sitting on a wooden shelf: a broken circle made out of the bone of a whale-like creature.

"What is this?" she asked the blue-eyed cashier.

"It's the broken circle. It's an important symbol of our culture. It symbolizes the loss of hope. It became popular right before the cataclysm."

"Thank you," she said.

They continued on their way, eventually reaching the boat. It was old, made from wood and powered by sails. Marjorie estimated it at 35 feet long. There was a stall in front of it with various fruits and vegetables from the Slakani River Valley.

"How can I interest you folks today?" A middle aged man said from the shade. He was wearing a white T-shirt, khaki shorts, sunglasses, and sandals. Streaks of gray ran through his hair and beard.

"We're looking for the owner of the Water Dragon," Daniel said.

"Well, you found me," he smiled. "Ire Vaska'i. How can I help you?"

"We're private investigators working on a case, and we think you might have some information we could use."

"What kind of information?"

"We were hoping you could tell us. Do you remember talking to a Luke Young?"

"The name sounds familiar. Who was he? Why didn't he come himself?"

"Because he's dead." Marjorie said. "And we want to figure out why."

"You won't believe me," Vaska'i said.

"Try us."

"Come into the boat."

They followed him beneath deck to a lit room with some chairs surrounding a plastic table. "Would you like some tea or water?"

"Tea would be good," Marjorie said.

"Water, please," said Daniel. He was not a fan of tea.

"So before we get started, how do I know you're not Sector 6 operatives?"

"Because Sector 6 is an urban legend that's been around for ages," Daniel said bluntly.

"Assuming Sector 6 actually did exist, and the government did investigate the paranormal and magic, which is highly improbable, there is no way for you to truly tell," Marjorie said.

"I knew you two wouldn't believe me," he said bitterly.

"Maybe we won't, but Luke believed you. And that's what matters to us. We want to know what he was thinking when he died."

"Fine. I will tell you what I told Luke. But be warned that you are about to go down a rabbit hole from which you will never return."

"We've been down plenty of rabbit holes and have returned just fine from them," Daniel said.

"You say that now, but just you wait. Now, do you know of the legends of old?"

"The stories of empires and magic before the Cataclysm? The stories that claim Py'ri caused it?"

"Yes. See, my people, the Numai'ri, we remember the olden times before the cataclysm. We have preserved the legends in our stories. We remember when there were powers beyond comprehension governing the world, when the very rules of nature were written differently. We remember being conquered by your people, the Py'ri, and the subsequent wars you raged across the planet. And then there was the last war, the Global War, which ravaged the world for over a century. But this one was different. A Lord of Time gave you something of unimaginable power that wrought devastation across the world. Then the ethereal spirits or the gods, depending on who you ask, became angry and tried to destroy Rikind after you killed one of their own. And so the world was nearly destroyed and the powers-that-were left for good."

"So that's what you told Luke?"

"Yeah."

"Have you told this to other people?" Marjorie asked.

"A few."

"And what happened to them?"

"They disappeared. Sector 6 I tell you."

"Right…Sector 6, the magic hunters took them away after they found out about the 'true nature' of the global war and the cataclysm," Daniel said sarcastically.

"You don't believe me."

"No, I don't."

"Well, I won't waste your time any longer."

"Wait just a moment!" Marjorie said, irritated at the both of them. "Did Luke mention anything about anyone chasing him?"

"He seemed really nervous about someone finding him. I assume Sector 6. Now get off my boat!"

And so our detectives departed. As soon as they were out of earshot, Marjorie hissed at Daniel, "What the hell was that?"

"That guy was bats! Sector 6 is just some stupid urban legend and those myths he was talking about were just stories that every Ri hears as a kid. Nobody believes it."

"That guy was potentially a good source of information. Yes, he was a little bit out there with bizarre theories, but those are bizarre theories that Luke may have believed. But now we don't know if he believed them or not."

"It probably would have led us down the wrong path anyways."

"You don't know that. Now how much sleep did you get last night?"

"Too little."

"That's what I thought."

"Marjorie," he paused. "I'm sorry."

She softened and gingerly placed her hand on his shoulder. "So am I. I haven't exactly been the nicest friend in the world."

He gently placed a hand on the crease of her elbow. "Yeah you've been kinda a jerk," he laughed. "But so have I."

They pulled apart. She said, "Let's go to the beach,"

* * *

The Eela'i beach was located on the Southern Peninsula overlooking the ocean. The warm clear waves crashed and gurgled upon the white sand and the gray concrete pillars that held up the MagStar train bridge that extended on into the horizon towards the island Saranaka. It was still morning so the beach wasn't as crowded as it was during the afternoon, and people were hiding in their houses out of fear of the bombs.

"Well, here it is," Daniel said. "The pier where he died."

"Yep." Marjorie took out her phone. "Activate photohologram of the crime scene,"

The body appeared lounged against a pillar, covered in sand and water. But that wasn't what caught Marjorie's attention.

"So we see the broken circle again. Right above the body."

"Could that be a coincidence?" Daniel asked.

"We've seen it too many times for it not to be."

"So do you think he drew it."

"No. He doesn't have residue on him. Someone else did this. Someone who must have seen the body before it was found."

"Do you think they might have pushed him to the edge?"

"That is very possible."

"I wonder what it means. Why would they draw that above the body?"

"I must admit that even I am stumped by that."

"Well that's a first," Daniel joked.

Marjorie shot him a look. "Really Daniel? Really?"

"You left yourself open to that."

"Yeah true," she smiled. It was nice to see him happy for once, even if but for a split second.

"Hey I'm gonna head out. I'm meeting a friend. Catch up later?"

"Yeah, let's do it. Take care!"

And so they parted.

* * *

Daniel made his way to the Baron Pub. The bar was located in the Yuraka district in the north-central part of the city. The inside was brick and covered with signs from various parts of the galaxy.

"Kha'ruuk!"

"Daniel! Hey, how are you doing! It's been way too long! Come on in! Do you want a drink! I'm gonna get you a drink! How about the red stuff! I'll get you the red stuff!"

To a human, Kha'ruuk would look like a cross between a grizzly bear and a velociraptor. Iridescent scales covered his huge body. He had two pairs of arms, one with hands with retractable claws that could be used to gently handle items, and the other with hands with three 8-inch long claws. At a hulking 8 feet tall, Kha'ruuk was a small Chula. In fact, he was the least Chula to ever Chula. His good nature was simply not compatible with the war-like species' society. So after some adventures in the stars he happened to settle on the least likely planet for a Chula to settle one: Alanaka, the homeworld of the puny species that dared embarrass the proud warriors, where he opened a bar.

"Fire whiskey. Nice."

"So what brings you here?"

"I've been working this really weird case and I just need to blow off some steam."

"Blowing off steam. We all need to do that sometimes. Good thing to do. How's Marjorie?"

"She's doing fine. She's doing case stuff, which is when she's happiest. Her sister is in town."

"Oh really? From Earth?"

"Yeah."

"Beautiful planet, Earth, I really want to go back there someday."

"You've been to Earth?"

"Several times."

"I'd like to go someday. I need a vacation." He sighed and downed his drink.

"Daniel, are you sure your okay?"

"Kha, you knew me, knew my family before the accident. Did I have a lot of nightmares?"

"No more than anyone else I knew, why?"

"Ever since I got shot I've been having terrible dreams. But not dreams of the war. Other dreams, with other places. Places I have never been. I just don't understand it."

"I don't know what to say. Sometimes in an attempt to understand the past or the present our minds make things up, interpret them in a strange way."

"Yeah. Maybe it's just this case messing with my head."

"What happened?"

"Weird death. Some guy killed himself after being tortured. He was hiding something from someone who really wanted it. And our leads have been equally strange."

"How so?"

"Well, one guy we talked to today was paranoid that Sector 6 was after him,"

"Sector 6?"

"Yeah the magic hunters, supposedly."

"Huh, weird."

"Anyways, I'm going home. I'm getting a headache."

"Take care of yourself Daniel. Be safe."

"I'll try. Can't make any promises in this line of work though."

"That's what scares me."

* * *

Daniel walked down the steps and passed an alley. A hovercyclist dressed in black leather with a metallic helmet and red visor was observing him from two floors above. She took out a fading, creased sepia photograph of a young boy. "I can't believe my eyes. After all these years...I have finally found you. And I can't even say hello," she said sadly.

* * *

After Daniel left, Kha reached for the seemingly decorative old-timey phone on the wall. He dialed a certain number, and waited as it rang.

A Scottish-sounding voice answered, "Hello, go away. You really shouldn't have this number. The doctor is not available. Go away now and never call back. Bye."

"Doctor, this is Kha'ruuk. Remember that thing you told me to do awhile back? Well, we might have a bit of a problem on our hands. Please call me back ASAP."

But alas, the doctor did not call back. He never did.

Sharon Malone and her work partner, Ray Ryla, a Ri, were following up a lead in the Silent Bomber investigation which lead them to a certain David Hanto.

"David Hanto. This is it," the landlord said, pulling out a key. "I hope he's not in too much trouble."

"Unfortunately it's worse than that," said deputy detective Ray Ryla. "He's dead."

"Oh no! What happened?"

"We can't talk about it. It's an ongoing case," Deputy Malone said. "The family will take possession after we are done investigating."

The truth of the matter was that Ren ID'd the body from remains found in the trunk of the car that exploded using dental records. After he was shot he was stuffed in the trunk.

"Oh my gosh. He was such a good kid too."

"Sometimes good people get mixed up with the wrong crowd," Ray said, adjusting the brim of his hat.

"That's enough chit-chat," Malone interjected. While she admired Ray, he had a tendency to say a little too much in her opinion.

They entered the apartment and began to look around. The fruit on the counter was beginning to rot. Forensics began to search the place, taking photos of objects and samples.

Sharon's attention was drawn to a bent candlestick holder on the ground with blood surrounding it. "It appears that he was dragged out of the apartment unwillingly," she observed.

Ray was fidgeting with David's smartphone, and finally unlocked it when the code came through from his family. "Sharon, you need to listen to this."

"Is it a break in the case?" she asked, feeling the fire and the thrill of the chase.

"Maybe? But you're not going to be happy about it."

He pressed the voicemail button and a very familiar voice said, "Hello David, this is Daniel I. Lee calling back about the appointment. 7:00pm Friday night will work fine for my associate and I. Thank you, and we'll see you then." BEEP.

Sharon sighed in frustration. "Of course O'Sullivan and Lee involved in this! They may have been the last people to talk to him before his killers. We have to bring them in for questioning!"

"It appears so," Ray said.

"We have to leave, now. They've found us," the young guard hurriedly told Arzan.

"So the time has come to leave Torr. So we head deeper into the belly of the beast."

They quickly headed into the kitchen of the earthen compound they were staying in. A TV blared the news.

"BREAKING: The firestar SS Salazar has been moved from its post along the Rhaza trade route into orbit around the world Torr, citing concerns over potential terrorist activity. Authorities are urging locals to stay calm."

 _Terrorists_. _What a brutal word_ , Arzan thought. He much preferred freedom fighters, or revolutionaries. After all, it was he and his people who were fighting against the oppression of the long exile from their homeland. He donned a light jacket that in tandem with his jeans and boots made him look like a local. They dashed out of the small house across the dried grass of the dusty plain. Three fighter spaceships passed overhead, silhouetted against the light of two of the three moons of Torr. After an hour of walking they made it to a small cargo spaceship.

"General," A tall, thin young man saluted. "My name is Captain Thra. I will be your pilot for the next few days."

"Thank you captain. I trust that you will get us to Corba safely."

"I hope so. They're searching ships so you may need to stay in the secret compartment."

"There will be no need."

"Are you sure, sir?"

"Yes. The Phoenician empire needs us, more than it wishes to admit. Or rather, it needs us to find the key."

"The key to what, if I may ask?"

"The key to unlock the secrets of reality, the secrets of our ancestors."


	7. The Domain of the Dead

**A/N:** sorry about the big gap between 5 and 6! I was moving. Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

"The face of Boe is currently arriving in Osai City on Rakana and will meet with the president of the Union shortly. He is expected to stay for a week before leaving for Athulon. In other news, th-,"

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

Daniel awoke from his nap and groggily made his way to the front door.

"KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!" The sound rang like piles being driven through his skull.

He opened the door to find Sharon and Ray. "Malone? Ryla? Why are you here?"

"Yeah, you can explain why you and O'Sullivan were the last people to talk to David Hanto before his murder," Sharon said sharply. Her dislike of Daniel was slightly less than her dislike of Marjorie, whom she believed to be a fraud. And Daniel was guilty by association.

"What? David Hanto is dead? When?!"

"Sometime Friday night. Now we're gonna have to take you down to the station. We have a few questions for you."

The ride to the station in the police hovercar was relatively uneventful, but Daniel's head was swimming with questions. "Who would kill David Hanto? And why? Did it have something to do with whoever tortured Luke Ye? Were the two somehow connected?"

When they reached the station, Marjorie was already there, waiting for them.

"Oh great, you're here. Let me guess, you had a vision," Sharon said

"No, actually, texting is a thing. I got a text. From my partner. After you showed up." Marjorie retorted. She'd had a terrible last few days and Sharon Malone certainly wasn't going to make it any easier.

"Well then, we can talk to you both at the same time. Follow me." They entered in to the main office of the Pyrana PD Central Branch. The clicking of computer keys, holomessages, and phones ringing assaulted their ears. Papers and tablets were strewn about desks. Holograms and transparent screens abounded.

"Marjorie! Daniel! What are you doing here? Sharon, why are they here?" Inspector Jong asked.

"Sir, they were the last people to talk to David Hanto before he was murdered on Friday night."

"Is that so? Well, do you have an alibi?"

"We were at the Dancing Dragon Pub until about 1 in the morning," Marjorie answered. "I'm sure that can be verified."

"Ray?"

"On it, sir!"

"Good." He turned his attention back to Marjorie and Daniel. "So how did the two of you come to know David Hanto?"

"He was a friend of the dead son of a client," Daniel said.

"Interesting. Did he give you any indication that he was in trouble?"

"None at all," Marjorie replied tartly. Although she trusted Jong, she did not trust others in the government, particularly the fake PBI agent that was currently working with the department.

"Sir, I respectfully insist that we continue this in an interrogation room," Deputy Malone said.

"Nonsense, they have an alibi." He turned his attention back to Marjorie and Daniel. "Now, does this mean that you will be willing to work with us to catch the people behind these attacks?"

"No," Marjorie fumed.

"Well it's needless to say that that's quite disappointing. You both can tell Deputy Malone about your conversation with David, and then you can go."

The two private investigators were taken into a bare, greenish-gray room with a table and four uncomfortable plastic and metal chairs by Sharon and Ray.

"Go ahead and sit," Sharon directed.

"I prefer to stand," Marjorie insisted.

"Sit, _please_ ," Sharon said icily.

"Marjorie, it's not the time for this," Daniel broke in.

Finally she sat down.

Ray then turned on a camera, "Investigation: Firefall, Sunday, Seline 21st, 7:01pm. Subjects: Daniel Lee and Marjorie O'Sullivan."

"I understand that the two of you talked to David Hanto on Friday night at around 7:00pm, the night of his death. Is this correct?" Sharon asked.

"Yes," Marjorie answered.

"Why were you meeting him?"

"None of your business."

"He knew the son of our clients," Daniel volunteered in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

Marjorie glared at Daniel. If looks could kill, he would have been dead in an instant.

"How so?" Ray asked.

"Our clients' son died 5 years ago of suicide. We're trying to find out why."

"Do you have any leads?"

"Nothing successful," Marjorie lied and shifted in her chair.

"Ok," Sharon said, placing her hands on the table and looking directly at Marjorie. "Now riddle me this, and answer honestly: why would your clients' son be linked to someone with ties to terrorist activity?"

"It's a small world after all," Marjorie snarked.

"Look, you and I both know that there are no coincidences. If you are withholding information that can stop the deaths of dozens of people, that is a crime."

"Are we under arrest?" Marjorie learned forward.

"No."

"And is it true that under Article 5, section 12 of the Constitution of the Pheonician Union that we are allowed to have a lawyer in interrogation?"

Sharon sighed. Marjorie was impossible to deal with. "Yes."

"And is it true that since we are not under arrest that we are allowed to leave?"

"Yes."

"Then I choose to leave."

"Fine," Sharon seethed.

"Let's go Daniel. We're done here,"

As they exited the room, Sharon turned to Ray. "Go ahead and turn off the camera."

"Done."

"They're hiding something."

"And that surprises you?" Ray observed.

"Yes it does. You know she likes to show off. Or at least hint at what's happening. Marjorie was way more tight lipped than usual."

"She must not trust us."

"No, it's not us that she doesn't trust." She whispered to Ray, "It's the 'PBI.'"

He nodded. "This is a troubling development."

It was at this moment that Jong came into the room.

"Ray, Sharon. There's a case that you might be interested in." He handed them tablets.

"A missing persons case?" Ray asked.

"In addition to Firefall?" Sharon mentioned. They were already overwhelmed with work.

"No, this is part of Firefall now. Clara Oswin Oswald, human, 28, texted a coworker that she was being followed by a mysterious stranger a few days before her disappearance. Detectives in Almi District entered her apartment and what they found is of interest to us. Swipe to page 15 in the file."

Sharon stared in shock and awe at the electronic screen. "We need to get there asap. Is CSI still on the scene?"

"Yes. If you leave now you'll get there before rush hour."

* * *

Of course, traffic decided to be heinous, and they arrived at the small one-bedroom apartment around 6:30pm when Numai was just set.

"I'm going to talk with CSI," Ray mentioned. "You can go check it out."

Sharon went into the bedroom. The soft twilight was ever so briefly casting its light onto the wall. She clicked on a flashlight.

"Unbelievable!"

The whole wall was taken up with pictures of people pinned into it, from drawings to old photos and newer pictures, with bits of colorful string between them. It was nearly indecipherable. "Clara Oswin Oswald, what did you find?"

And then she saw it: Daniel and Marjorie's photographs, with several of the strings attached. "Why are you two here? Of all people?"

And then she saw herself. "What is going on?"

At that moment she heard footsteps from the window, and turned to see a figure dressed in leather hovercyclist clothes. She drew her weapon. "This is an active police investigation scene! Get on the ground!"

The person raised her hands in the air. "That's not a good idea."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, I came to warn you."

"About what?"

"Do not follow Clara Oswald. She does not want to be found. At least by the police, that is."

"I have a sworn duty to this city to protect it and the people who live here, including my family. If that means following Clara Oswald, then I will."

"Then I have tried and I have failed to help you."

Sharon paused for a moment and inquired, "Who are you?"

"I'm simply a mother trying to save her son. Surely you can relate to that. You have a child right? A five year old?"

"How do you know that?"

"That doesn't matter. Listen Sharon, take the next few days off. Spend them with your husband and children. You never know when it might be the last time you see them. Especially in this line of work."

Dread and guilt filled Sharon's soul. That was one of her biggest fears.

"Now listen to me," the figure said. "If you really want to understand what's happening, you will not tell anyone you saw me. They won't know this conversation even happened because I've pulled us into a pocket dimension for the moment. They haven't heard you. The protection of your children and city would be compromised if I am found as well."

"They wouldn't believe me anyways, would they?"

"No, they wouldn't."

Sharon sighed. "I hope you save your son." She genuinely meant it.

"I hope so too."

Sharon blinked and the hovercyclist disappeared.

It was at that moment that Ray turned on the light. "This might help-woah."

"I...I don't understand," Sharon trailed off.

"This is...strange," he agreed.

Sharon took out her phone,took a panorama, and turned towards the door.

"I have to go. It's late and I need to read Julia her story."

"You ok? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Yeah," she said flatly. She headed down the steps and into her car. The cyclist's words would haunt her for the rest of her life.

* * *

Marjorie and Daniel took a cab home. "The bombers and Luke Young are connected, aren't they?" Daniel asked.

"That's what it's beginning to look like."

"Then why aren't we helping the police, Marjorie?"

"We need surprise on our side. And I don't trust that fake PBI agent. Something very strange is happening and we need to exercise caution."

"We've worked with them before. It doesn't seem right leaving our friends in the dark."

"Like it or not, it's the logical thing to do. Speaking of which, it's time we talked to Luke's ex-girlfriend. I suggest we run by her workplace in the morning."

* * *

The next morning was hot and muggy, as per usual in Pyrana. Thick fingers of moisture wafted their way up from the puddles on the concrete sidewalks, twisting and turning through the suffocating air. Fat dewdrops clung to palm fronds and greenery. Red fire lilies were beginning to bloom all throughout the city, and spreading to fill the entire Archipelagan region.

Our private detectives were currently headed to the Red Dragon Pub in the North Central District. This part of the city was a very lively one, full of young urbanites, artists, boutiques, bakeries, and restaurants. Vendors stood at the corner selling everything from umbrellas and sunglasses (must-haves in the tropical climate of Pyrana) to every type of food imaginable. Strings of lanterns, signaling the arrival of the New Year, were hung between buildings and on palm trees. Even at 9 in the morning, the streets were bustling with people of many species rushing to work and the cafes were filled to the brim with those trying to get a bite to eat.

The pub itself had an outside patio shaded by a trellis. The vine that creeped over it had frond-like dark green leaves. Round red-orange flowers with black spots towards the center dotted the greenery, and electric fans with brown wicker blades lazily turned. Inside the pub it was dim. Booths lined the left side, while the bar was on the right with red cushioned bar stools pulled up underneath the counter. On the walls were various street signs and old pictures, some of which were autographed by singers and famous people. One sign simply read "Bad Wolf." A young woman dressed in denim jeans, a fitted black T-shirt, and black Converse came out from the back. She had long black hair and amber-gold eyes.

"Sorry, we're closed now. We don't open 'til noon."

"You forgot to flip the sign," Marjorie noted. "Of course, that's understandable, given your late night. You even slept here, I see, Kita."

"Who are you and how did you know that?"

"I am Marjorie O'Sullivan, and this is my associate, Daniel I. Lee. We are private detectives. Your eyeliner appears to have smudged, which may have happened after a long night, or sleeping. However, you seem somewhat alert, indicating that you most likely did have some sleep. I would guess 3 hours, enough for one REM cycle."

"Okayy…so why are you here and how did you know my name?"

"We are in the employ of the parents of a certain Luke Young, who we understand that you were involved with, correct?"

Kita froze. It had been a long time since she had let herself think about her dead ex-boyfriend. She did not want to go through the same hell again.

She turned away to hide her face and replied softly, "The police ruled it was a suicide."

"There was more to it than that. We think that someone was hunting him. We want to find what he was hiding. We want to know how he died, and put away the people who hurt him."

She whirled back around and shouted, "And what makes you of all people think that you can do this when the police couldn't find anything else out?!"

Daniel stepped forward and gently countered, "Over the past year and a half that I have worked with Marjorie, I have never seen her be unable to find something out. Believe me, you're in good hands."

Kita's expression softened. "Ok. I'll talk to you. But I need some breakfast. There's a café across the street we can talk at."

So our trio headed to the Aranola Café. It was a cute little place, with checkered red and white tablecloths over round tables. Sunlight streamed through the large windows. Potted plants were bursting with orange, red, and yellow flowers. After they ordered, they began to talk.

"Did Luke act differently around the time of his death?" Daniel asked after taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yes. He was constantly distracted. And paranoid. He kept on worrying that someone was going to kill him. He thought some person or organization was chasing him."

"Did he mention a name?"

"Yeah. He mentioned an 'EKLA' once."

"Did he tell you anything about this EKLA?"

"He said to run if anyone ever mentioned it to me."

"EKLA," Marjorie mused. "I swear I've heard that before." She paused to take a quick sip of coffee. "Did Luke ever mention a Sector 6?"

"The urban legend? Maybe once or twice. He was getting kind of delusional towards the end there."

"Ok. So when did he start acting strangely?"

"About a month or two before he died?"

"Was there any particular event that you remember? Somewhere he went? Something he read?"

Kita leaned in, worry creasing her face. "You're not working with the cops, are you?"

"No, not on this case," Marjorie replied.

Kita relaxed. "See, Luke and I used to go caving." Such activity was illegal in most parts of Pyrana. "And right before he started acting strange he said he found something underground. He said that there was a message in the Beach Room under Mona Pyorra and he was going to show me, but never got the chance. I went to go check it out myself, and found nothing."

"Do you think that you could show us?"

"Yeah. I'm off tomorrow. Do you have any gear?"

"I have some from college," Daniel mentioned.

"I have gear as well," Marjorie nodded.

"Great. Let's meet outside the pub at 10am tomorrow. We'll drive from there."

* * *

The blue-green daylight side of Corba hung in the black void of space above Captain Thra's _Blue Falcon_. White clouds swirled on the surface. The nighttime side was dotted with the yellow lights of cities and towns that dotted the land. The moons Tyla and Solas hung in the distance. The binary stars Cykos and Makas were behind them. Inside the _Blue Falcon_ , Arzan leaned back in the copilot's chair.

"Do you remember the first time you were in space?" Arzan asked Thra.

"Not really. Daza'ri go to space young, just as we learn to wield the twin knives young." Thra was tall, olive-skinned, with dark hair and brown eyes.

"Understandable," Arzan commented. The Daza'ri fascinated him. The colony ship carrying them from Pangaea landed on a planet orbiting a black hole, which meant fewer generations passed for them between the cataclysm and the time the Union formed. Shortly after the formation of the Union they escaped the black hole and took up residency among the stars.

"Do you remember the first time you were in space, General?"

"Yes. I felt so amazed, yet so small, and lonely. It was a reminder of how far I've come."

Suddenly a transmission came through. "Delta 229, this is patrol ZA1255, do you copy?"

Thra spoke into his headset, "Patrol ZA1255, this is Delta 229, copy"

"Delta 229, please state where you're coming from and your business on Corba."

"Patrol ZA1255, we left from Torr 12 hours ago. We are visiting friends on the ground."

"Delta 229, you have not been selected for search. Enjoy Corba."

"Thank you Patrol ZA1255." He turned to Arzan, "Alright, let's land. The spaceport already transmitted me the entrance coordinates."

The stingray-shaped spaceship turned such that Corba was below it and began to enter the atmosphere. Thra engaged the anti-gravity thrusters to slow their descent. They passed over lilac oceans, green savannahs, and barren deserts, eventually landing off a peninsula in an inland sea in the city of Malaka. Malaka was much drier than Pyrana. Short olive-like trees dotted the city. Hills and cliffs were common in the seaside city. When they landed, it was a beautiful spring day. The binary suns, the yellow star Makas and the red dwarf Cykos, were high in the sky. They climbed out through the bottom hatch of the _Blue Falcon_ onto the storage platform, then made it through customs without incident, and were met by a woman in a long black and white striped skirt and a green tank top. She had fair skin, light brown hair, and green eyes

"Hey! Tom and Ky! Over here!" she called to them using their aliases.

"Ella, nice to see you!" Thra smiled.

Ella led them out of the (airport?) and the trio ducked into her slick silver flying car. When they were settled, she asked, "You both have your fake ID's and passports, right?"

"We've had them since Torr," Thra confirmed.

"Good. We have a safe house near the outskirts of town, in a neighborhood filled with other Gai'ri. You'll be in good hands."

"Thank you, Ella," Arzan imparted. "You are serving the cause well."

"No, thank you General. You have brought hope to us after Gaios."

After an hour of driving, they arrived at a town built into a steep hill overlooking the ocean. The houses and businesses were built of stone with dark green plasticine roofs. The streets were too narrow for cars, so they parked at the bottom of the hill and walked up. It was late afternoon, so most people were at work, save for a few tourists exploring it. They finally reached a townhouse that was built into the hillside, and Ella let them in.

"I'm back!" she called, adding, "with guests."

"Mommy! You're back!" a young boy ran down the stairs and jumped into Ella's arms. He looked to be around 5 years old.

She laughed and said, "Oh you little munchkin, you, it's good to see you! Now where are you father and sister?"

"Daddy and Lena went to get food. Grandma's in the kitchen."

"I'm here now, I'm here," a healthy and strong looking elderly woman hummed as she came into the hallway. She was short, with curly grey hair and green eyes that matched her daughter's. "Welcome friends, it's an honor to have you in our home. My name is Jala." She introduced herself and smiled.

Arzan replied, "Aya, thank you for hosting us," remembering to use the polite Gai'ri term for a female elder.

"It is my pleasure. Now, would you like some tea? You must be tired after that long trip."

"Yes, tea would be wonderful, thank you."

"I will take some as well," Thra answered.

"Good. Tom, do you have a moment," she asked, leading Arzan into the kitchen.

When they were away from the child, she explained, "General, a message came in yesterday. A Sector 6 agent is working with the Pyrana PD. They have found what remains of the body of David Hanto. Colonel Lyla says that everything is under control and going according to plan."

"Good. Any word on O'Sullivan and Lee?"

"They have not found the key yet."

"Give them time. They'll find it all right. We just have to get it before the government gets to it. And then EKLA will bring victory and pride back to our people. We will return from this exile to our fallen kingdom."

* * *

The two detectives met outside the Red Dragon at precisely the time agreed upon.

"Rough night?" Marjorie asked, eyeing Daniel while they were waiting

"Yeah," he replied tiredly. "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep."

"Hey Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember the night I was so high that I threw the microwave out of the window?"

"Yeah."

"Remember how you told me that I needed to go to rehab when I was sober the next day? I'm returning the favor now. Go see someone about your sleep. I'm concerned about you."

"Ok."

"I mean it. Don't just _ok_ me."

"I'll make the appointment today or tomorrow."

"Good."

At that moment, a hovercar with bright red peeling paint pulled up.

"Good to see that you two are here," Kita greeted them while getting out of the car. "This is my younger brother, Riku."

"Heyyy! Hey there! I've heard about you two," a young man of about 22 announced excitedly. He was tall with dark hair tied up into a bun and amber-gold eyes. "You helped my best friend's grandma find her cat! And busted the Slitheen drug runners! At the same time! What!"

"Wonderful, a fan," Marjorie lamented sarcastically. She had a love-hate relationship with recognition.

"Anyways, the car is all packed and ready to go. You can put your packs in the trunk," Kita said. They loaded everything into the red flying car and took off above the city. Traffic at this time was not as horrendous as it normally was. They were able to get on Highway 76 without a problem, soaring over the city until the exit for Mona Pyorra.

"Have you all ever visited the ancient Imperial ruins in the caldera?" Riku asked. The ancient Imperial capital was built in the caldera of the extinct volcano.

"A while back," Daniel answered.

"Yes," Marjorie responded.

"It's pretty amazing. I got to go on a dig up there once. It was really cool!"

"You're double majoring in archaeology and computer science with a minor in history," Marjorie intuited.

"Yeah. Wow you really are sharp."

"That's one way to put it."

They finally parked about 3/4ths of the way up the mountain near one of the many trails in the preserve.

"The entrance is about a quarter mile up the mountain from here. It won't take long to get there," Kita informed them.

They began their trek through the rainforest to the caves. Enormous trees crowded around the trail, reaching up to the sky. The dense canopy darkened the sunlight. Giant ferns and smaller trees dominated the understory, while vines crept up into the taller trees. Flowers of all colors dotted the foliage. Carnivorous plants with pitchers large enough to hold a medium sized dog gaped hungrily for food. In the treetops six-armed ape-like creatures swung from tree to tree, hooting at a snake-like reptile with small legs. Salamanders crawled on logs searching for the many diverse insects that made their home in the forest. Pterodactyl-like reptiles roosted in the treetops.

"No birds," Marjorie observed. That was perhaps the most alien quality about the forest.

"They all died in the cataclysm," Riku explained. "I've always wanted to see one in the wild. I've only seen them in the zoo,"

They finally came to a rocky overhang above them that a tree was growing on. Thick roots twisted and turned down the side over their heads.

"Ok, here we go, helmets on," Kita directed.

They reached into their backpacks and pulled out climbing helmets with headlamps on them. Kita took the lead, showing them where to squeeze through a break in the roots and into the cave. It was damp and dark. Drops of water kept falling from the roof of the cave onto our group.

"This leg will continue until we reach the Secret River. From there we'll go to The Domain of the Dead. The Beach room is a few chambers over," Kita informed them.

"The Domain of the Dead. That doesn't sound morbid at all," Daniel halfway joked.

"Wait 'til you see it. Anyways, there's one last thing I need to do."

Kita took out a lighter and lit the flame. After a whiff of sour grapes, some of the rocks in the ceiling began to glow red.

"They're reacting with the byproducts of the pyrzonium flame," Marjorie observed. The smell of sour grapes was a dead giveaway. "I've never seen anything like it."

"There are a lot of things down below that are nearly unthinkable on the surface, " Kita said darkly"

The tunnel started out like a normal cave, but as they went further and further cut stones and ancient writing began to line the walls..

"Ancient High Imperial!" Riku pointed out. He immediately grabbed his phone and booted up the translational software, which translated from the Ancient High Imperial characters to the letters of the Nu language that was spoken in the modern Phoenician Union. ""We're all gonna die. Bad Wolf. Ru was here. The circle is broken.""

"The circle is broken?" Marjorie asked

"Yeah, that's what it says."

"Do you know what that means?"

"Well there are a lot of different theories behind it, but, basically, we don't know."

"What theories?" she inquired.

"So the ancient cultures of the era believed that time was cyclical instead of linear. That events happened over and over again. Well, something broke a cycle. The most popular theory is that the cataclysm broke the crop, ocean, and weather cycles. But some think that a person-a king, or someone of importance-was killed and the ancestral lines stopped. Most likely the Archipelagan lords, since the last of them died in the outbreak during the Cataclysm. But some scholars think that there was another, more important person who died."

"Interesting,"

"Hey, come look at this," Daniel pointed to a black mark that was in the shape of a flame.

"Fire," replied Kita "You'll see that a lot down here."

"The Imperials practically revered fire," Riku explained. "It was central to their culture. They believed that Ri were forged from fire deep underground, that it was the source of life itself, before the first Ri crawled out of the mud. The grad student I worked with in my research did his dissertation on fire symbolism among the Ancient Imperials."

They walked along the passage until they came to a lava tube with water rushing down it. Cool mist wafted upwards.

"There's a steel cable that was rigged up here a long time ago. You're gonna have to clip yourselves onto it and walk on the side," Kita directed them.

There was good reason for the cable. The path on the side of the tube was very narrow. Eventually they reached a dryer tunnel that forked off the river tube. This one was lined with skulls and bones, much like the catacombs of Paris. They walked for about another 10 minutes until they came to an enormous cavern.

"Welcome to the Domain of the Dead," Kita announced in a hushed voice. In the center of the room was a large lake with hundreds of perfectly preserved dead bodies floating in it just beneath the surface. Daniel walked gingerly up to the edge. They were dressed in intricate robes with red, black, and gold, the colors of the Imperials. On their arms and faces were dark purple bruises, a telltale symptom of the necroma virus. My own body was somewhere in that pool.

"How long have these people been here?" Daniel asked.

"About 5000 years," Kita replied. "They're Imperials. Wealthy ones. All the poor people were burned in mass graves. The wealthy people were dumped here until someone could bury them. The only problem was that there was nobody left to bury them."

"They're necroma victims. What a horrible way to go. I guess that many of these people drowned in their own blood. Their organs are probably soup."

"And that is exactly why nobody has moved the bodies and why it is very illegal for us to be here," she grinned darkly.

Marjorie was on the other side of the cave. She was examining an almost equally grotesque sight: a skeleton of a large and long-extinct avian-like species was propped up on a throne made of bones.

Kita walked over and read, "Here's the King of the Dead."

"Intriguing," Marjorie noted. She then walked behind the macabre setup to look at the wall behind it, which had thousands upon thousands of names written on it. "And what is this?"

"People write the names of their lost loved ones here."

Daniel came up and chimed in, "Ok, I know you two seem to be enjoying this, but this place is giving me the creeps. Let's keep moving."

And so they did. The beach room was a few tunnels over. When they got there it was a medium-sized cavern with a still glowing blue lake. The blue light cast shadows on the walls.

"So this is it," Kita announced. "This is the beach room. He said that there was a message in here."

Marjorie began to search the room, but could not find anything obvious. It was Daniel who found the first clue. He noticed a slightly darker patch of rock on the wall, so he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned it.

"Hey look at this!" Something was burned into the wall. He then took a spherical, palm-sized holoprojector out of his backpack and set it to project on the burn markings on the wall. He then started walking backwards until the water of the lake was up to his knees to get a better look at the markings.

"What does this even mean?" Daniel questioned.

"What does it say?" Kita asked.

"It just says, 'DOCTOR, HELP.' Question is, Doctor who?"

"Daniel, throw me the sonic screwdriver!" Marjorie said. He obliged, and she caught the red and silver instrument and soniced the markings again. "They're 5000 years old," she marveled.

"What?" Daniel asked. "That can't be right. The message is written in English!"

"That doesn't make any sense," Kita remarked. "English wasn't even a thing back then."

"That can only mean one thing then," Marjorie deduced. "Time travel. Whoever wrote this message was a time traveler."

"What?" Daniel and Kita chorused, in equal disbelief.

"This is evidence of time travel. Question is, has the message reached this Doctor, and if not, how will it?"

Suddenly Riku came in the room. "Oh wow that's cool!" He pulled out his phone and said in a singsong voice, "This is going on Instagram!"

"That might just be our answer," Marjorie noted.

"Can we just rewind to the part where you said _time travel_?" Daniel broke in.

"Yes, I said time travel. Time travel is real."

Daniel came out of the water and walked up to Marjorie and whispered to her. "Time travel is real?"

"Yes, time travel is real," she whispered back. Kita and Riku watched the exchange in fascination.

"You can't be serious."

"Serious as a heart attack."

"You're messing with me."

"No I'm not."

"It goes against the laws of physics."

"Depends on the physics you're using."

"So this is real?"

"It is," she said, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. "Trust me."

"Ok. So time travel is a thing," Daniel said. He straightened up. "So exactly who wrote the message?"

"Anonymous did," Riku pointed out.

"What?"

"No, literally, it was Anonymous. My translation software on my phone is translating the Ancient High Imperial right beneath it to Nu. It literally translates to Anonymous, or Nobody. Your man or woman here is Nameless."

"And so the plot thickens," Marjorie mused. "We have a nameless time-traveling messenger and a nameless doctor, who may also be a time traveler. The messenger, who was probably from High Imperial times, may have become stuck in the past, and saw everything fall to pieces. So they try and get in touch with this Doctor for help."

"So what about Luke?" Kita asked. "He discovered this too. Why would it get him killed?"

"Time travel would be a powerful thing," Daniel noted. "Maybe he found a way to do it and somebody else wanted it."

"Or maybe somebody already messed with the past and doesn't want it to be found out," Riku hypothesized.

"All intriguing theories, but we'll need to get more evidence. We've done all we can here. I'll need time to think this through," Marjorie commented. And so they left the cave.

* * *

Ella's husband Hugh and their daughter Jula arrived in the afternoon with groceries. They had a nice dinner, with a main dish of a pork-like meat, hanta grain with a green sauce and bean-like vegetables on top. Dessert was a bread pudding like mixture with red arana berries from the countryside. After the children went up to bed, Arzan began to talk.

"Again, thank you for letting us stay at your home."

"We would do anything for the cause. It is an honor to have you here," Jala replied, smiling widely.

"If only more Gai'ri families were like yours."

"It's a shame that many of our brothers and sisters have become so…comfortable," she agreed.

"They have forgotten the sting of defeat and the pains of war. They have been placated by lies. But soon enough we will expose the truth, and there is nothing our oppressors will be able to do to suppress it. I myself am a living testament to their inability to control the truth."

"So is it true then?" Ella asked. "What they say about you?"

"Yes, it is true. I am a time traveler. I was born in the midst of the Global War 5019 years ago. The powers that be ensured that I fell through the cracks of time and space to Saraba. I will rain terror on the descendants of that nation which almost destroyed my people. Vengeance will be mine."


End file.
